Blessed: A Child's Song
by Disco Inferno1
Summary: Sequel to "Blessed, Not Unlucky." Cheryl and Batista find themselves at a crucial crossroads in their careers that could lead to the end of their tenure with the WWE. COMPLETE
1. A Lying Tongue Gains No Trust

_**Blessed: A Child's Song**_

**Summary: **Sequel to _Blessed, Not Unlucky. _Now together for five years and married for two of those, Cheryl Leigh and Dave Batista have weathered the ups and downs of the wrestling business, refusing to bend to the pressures upon their relationship. Following a pay-per-view in which they both lose their respective championship belts and after a long vacation, they find themselves at a crucial crossroads in their careers that could lead to the end of their tenure with the WWE.

**Rating: **T or PG-13 for mild swearing, sexual situations, and mild violence.

**Disclaimer:** I do not in any way lay claim to any name or character in the WWE. This is not-for-profit fiction. The only profit received is pure entertainment. Poetic license has been taken with character personas, along with television canon. Original characters of Cheryl Leigh and her family are copyright of Disco Inferno1, 2005-8.

**Notes: _Personalities presented within are not necessarily those of the characters in real life nor are the views presented within necessarily those of the author._**Poetic license has been taken with character personas and television canon.

Even though this fic is based on "reality," I have not used wrestlers' real names or history or their families' names or history (which I have subsequently made up). I am highly uncomfortable doing so as wrestlers' personal lives are none of my business. No disrespect meant for those authors who do, simply personal belief on my part. It feels, for instance, as if I'm writing a fic about David Bowie rather than _Labyrinth_'s "Jareth."

A great friend of mine Clare (her pen name is _**WandaXmaximoff**_**; user id 747588**) borrowed Cheryl for her _Fine Line Between Love and Hate _(It's a Cena fic, ladies! Go read it!) and since then, I've been dying to write something else with Cheryl and Dave. I must credit this wonderful woman with the re-formation of Evolution and Cheryl's news, which you will subsequently read about and spurred this entire fic. Samantha Edwards belongs to her as well and can be found in _Fine Line._

_**

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Chapter I: A Lying Tongue Gains No Trust**_

Cheryl Leigh-Batista paced the bedroom floor of the house she shared with her husband, Dave Batista, in DC. She chewed the inside of her mouth as she wore a track in the carpet, her arms defensively wrapped around herself. She never thought she would ever receive news that was both depressing and exciting at the same time. She wanted to talk to Dave, tell him the good news but the downside was the possible end of their careers. She had to make a decision for herself first before she could break the news. If he was here now, he'd definitely know something was going on. She could never hide anything when she was this nervous.

But she _had _to tell someone. The redhead picked up her cellphone and started to press the speedial for Nidia Guenard Angle. The kinky brunette may have been out of the business for five years, choosing to be a stay at home mom to her four and a half year old son, but the two women hadn't lost their friendship. Knowing exactly what the former diva would say, she clipped her phone closed and heavily sat down on the bed. She could call Samantha Edwards, the diva she had been mentoring for over two years now and with whom she had become close friends. But her decision could weigh heavily on their match next Sunday and there was no point in worrying Sam over it.

Two sets of papers stared at Cheryl and she picked up both, reading over them again. Maybe it was for the best. She was turning thirty-five next year. How many women could say that they were still employed as a diva in the WWE in their thirties? Very few. Her biological clock was ticking as well and something seemed to pop up every day to remind her of that. If she and Dave wanted to have more than one child, she wouldn't be staying in the company much longer anyhow. She could go out on her own terms instead of being put in a ridiculous storyline that would either see her buried or get her fired for lack of fan support. Or even worse, half naked and begging for her job in the middle of the ring.

She was bringing the women's belt back to the reformed faction of Evolution this Sunday night. If she played her cards right, she could retire the women's champion—her character Cherry Leigh could go out on top. What a sweet dream… That's what one set of papers was about.

On RAW, John Cena and his on-screen and off-screen girlfriend, Sam Edwards, had messed with the wrong people, particularly singling out former members of Evolution. Of course, the point of it was to look like it was random but the intent of Creative was to reform Evolution at Unforgiven this Sunday. Cheryl had dropped her belt to Sam prior to leaving for a much needed three week vacation with Dave. In the process, Triple H, Cherry's on-screen half brother, had come to defend his sister against Cena and Sam. Since then, she had stood behind him, arguing and fighting with the couple. So, it was only natural that the veteran diva would immediately take her newly won belt to the stable she was once a part of. This time, it would be a strong version of Evolution, Triple H, Randy Orton, Ric Flair, and Dave Batista. When she had officially joined them originally, Orton had already left and her initiation into the group was to turn on Dave after she had lured him into a relationship. That didn't exactly go as planned but she ended up standing in the place that was left by Orton and Batista before Evolution imploded.

Dave was on his way over to RAW again in the upcoming draft so that Evolution could be fully reformed. They were elated at the news, thankful that their brand separation was coming to an end. However, it wouldn't matter if she was no longer employed with the company. Believing that this was the right choice for her didn't help because it could bring an end to Dave's career. He wouldn't be so lucky as to leave as either the WWE or Heavyweight Champion.

The papers she now held in one hand were her script for the pay-per-view along with the latest plans for her character. Dave's was still unopened on the bed beside her. To come back to Evolution should have meant something for her character's storyline but not really considering how she was becoming a heel again and would be revamped for her new place among the faction. That alone was enough to make her want to quit but she had thought the same thing every time Creative tampered with her character.

Cheryl tucked her feet up under her on the bed and tried to read over the script again. The wrestlers obviously had the freedom to ad lib but there were certain things that McMahon wanted said and done a particular way. Her spot with Samantha was nothing really. Since it was an interbrand pay-per-view, they were lucky to even get air time for themselves rather than standing in the corner of their respective wrestlers—Sam with John and Cherry with Hunter. The only point was to have Cherry win the belt and join with Evolution as a threat five strong to her archenemy, which was currently Sam.

The pages kept blurring and the woman could feel a headache coming on. She would memorize it all on the flight out Friday to an autograph signing. The only reason she was trying now was to take her mind off things and because Dave wasn't there. The second he stepped foot in their house, she was solely devoted to spending time with him. Because he was on SmackDown, they only had about two nights together each week. He would come in on Wednesday and she would be right back out the door on Friday morning.

When the phone rang, Cheryl tossed the papers aside and picked up the cell. Dave's number was on the ID and her heart dropped to her feet. She was hoping to be calm enough by the time she picked him up at the airport but she wasn't ready for a call from him now.

"Hey, pum'kin," he greeted.

"Hi yourself, stranger," she replied. "What's up?"

"I don't see you here at baggage claim. Are you stuck in traffic?"

"Uh, your flight wasn't supposed to be in for another two hours," she replied, her voice sounding unsure.

"I left you a message, said I got on an earlier flight. You didn't get it?" he asked.

She could tell he had shoved his other hand in his pocket in frustration. "No, I'm so sorry. I'm on my way now. Just let me throw on a pair of shoes…" She was already shoving her feet in a pair of sneakers.

"You okay, babe?"

"Yeah," she replied, faking a smile for her own benefit. "Just mad at myself for missing your message. Now you've got to wait on me to get there and—"

"It's okay," he interrupted and he meant it in a way. If she didn't get the message, she didn't get it. He was just ready to be home.

Cheryl picked up the second set of papers that she had been trying to avoid. They had to go somewhere. Dave couldn't see them yet. "Um, okay," she trailed off, looking around the bedroom for a place to stash them.

"Just take your time and drive safe," he replied, still thinking she wasn't fine.

"I love you, honey. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Love you too," he replied and ended the call.

Cheryl felt that tickle in her stomach at the thought of her husband being home in less than an hour to say those words to her. But then she went back into a panic over the documents and, after thinking about where she could hide them in each of their rooms in the house, she lifted the edge of the mattress on her side of the bed and shoved them under. She'd move them when she thought of a better place.

With one last glance at her secret, the diva bounded down the steps and paused to pick up her handbag and keys before slipping into the Lexus. Since it was early afternoon, lunch traffic had dissipated and rush hour had yet to start. It felt odd to want nothing more than to be with her husband and yet not want see him but, before she knew it, she was arriving at the airport. Just as she pulled into a parking space, Dave was coming out of the sliding glass doors, having seen her drive up. He motioned for her to stay and she put the car in park and slipped out. Four bounding steps and she was jumping in his arms, her legs locking around his waist and her lips planting squarely on his.

When Dave finally untangled his wife from his body, he asked, "What did I do to deserve that?"

"I missed you," she replied with a shrug and turned away to pop open the trunk.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Absolutely," she replied, raising up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. "Guess I feel bad about not being here when you arrived." Her nervousness had not remotely subsided by the time she arrived at the airport but it was just too easy to launch herself into his arms. But at least she could blame her state on being upset with herself for missing his message. What exactly was she doing when he called? She flipped open her phone and checked the missed calls. She must have been in the middle of receiving the surprise of her life.

Cheryl handed the keys to Dave and they both climbed into the car. "How've you been today?" he asked, glancing at her as he looked over his shoulder to back out of the parking space.

"Eh," she replied. "Got our scripts today."

"That's what's bothering you."

"I guess."

"You're not feeling sick again about all this, are you?" he asked, running a hand up under her hair.

"A little maybe. I knew they were going to change my character but it's something else to see it in print."

"I'm sorry, baby. I wish there was something I could do."

"You could talk to—"

"Don't think about it," he warned with a smirk. Since she had stupidly accused Triple H of having more power over who was hired and fired than he actually had, she and Dave had privately joked about appealing to Hunter and Stephanie when they didn't like where Creative was going.

Cheryl remembered confronting Helmsley like it was yesterday and she had learned that day that she was almost part of the roster cut of the century. The woman didn't even want to think about how her life would have turned out if she had been released.

She and Dave had not exactly been making immediate plans for either of them retiring. They kicked around the occasional idea of what they would do if one of them was released and casually discussed having children—career first, they had always said to their parents and in-laws. Career-ending injuries were never brought up, as if it would be bad luck to mention them.

The diva said nothing else about her irritation at the scripts and Creative's plan. Dave muttered his disagreement while looking them over but tried to cheer her up by talking about how they would be traveling together again. Of course, that only made her more depressed. She declined going running with him as she was still feeling a little nauseous but found the strength to not forego their work-out together, although she concentrated only on her upper body.

Showered and still riding the euphoria of having just made love, Cheryl whistled a nameless tune to herself as she pondered what she was preparing for dinner. Dave watched his wife sort through the cabinets and then pull out a few pots and pans while he flipped through his mail. She was oblivious to his eyes following her as she turned back and forth from the refrigerator. She bent over to retrieve fresh vegetables from the crisper and he couldn't help but smile to himself—his wife had a fine ass. She stood out in the midst of most divas being only a half foot shorter than he. Stacy Keibler was the only woman in the company in the past six years who could stand eye to eye with her without heels and Torrie and Michelle were close. But they didn't have something that Cheryl had—curves, from top to bottom, breasts, hips, thighs…

Watching her, he noticed she was favoring one leg. His first thought was that he had hurt her when he could no longer contain himself and had ambushed her in the shower to make love to her. But she had declined running with him, something that should have thrown up red flags. It was another way they spent time together with them on different brands. She had also only worked her upper body—not a problem because she always switched each day between upper and lower—but put it all together and it made sense to him. She had been lying to him about her knee. He knew she had hurt it or worse Candice had been sloppy and injured her during her first match back from their vacation. But Cheryl simply wrapped it up, claiming it hardly hurt.

Dave pushed aside his opened mail and left the table to surprise Cheryl by slipping an arm beneath her knees, another around her back, and picking her up. She let out a squeal, still clutching the box of aluminum foil, as he deposited her on the countertop. She stared at him with wide eyes as he prodded her knee, trying to elicit a reaction from her, one to admit she was going to have to do something about the injury.

"What are you doing?" she asked, smacking his hands with the box of foil.

"You're favoring one leg and it just happens to be the one that idiot messed up," he answered, his fingers dodging the box and poking her knee again.

"You're going to be there all night then because I stubbed my toe this morning," she lied. She could use a painkiller for her knee at the moment but she had neglected to have the prescription filled her doctor had written her that morning, probably because she had been walking around in a haze all day. "I'm surprised you didn't hear me all the way in Nashville when I did it."

Dave stepped back and scrutinized her—she was lying. He'd get it out of her eventually, he always did. This title win was too important to her but then he would give her hell until she sat her ass down and let the knee heal. "I just worry about you," he stated and kissed her forehead. Picking up his mail, he headed down the hall to the study.

Cheryl shook her head and slipped down off the countertop. He was absolutely going to kill her. But first, a decision had to be made. She honestly believed she could walk away from the company when the time was right. It still didn't seem the right time but, nevertheless, she was more than likely going to do so. The woman never really thought about how it was going to feel to leave. Eight years with the company, six of those as an on-television personality. Her character had seen some phenomenal moments that she never thought she would ever see. She had experienced unbelievable highs, meeting and marrying Dave, winning the belt four times, being part of a popular stable. Then there were some incredible lows, her marriage almost falling apart, her character almost destroyed by Creative, and the uncertainty of where her storyline was currently going. This could be her last moment in the spotlight but was it worth the risk on her body, the wrath of her husband if he found out she had knowingly wrestled while she was pregnant, and the displeasure of the creative team over their plans for her character?

TBC…


	2. Kneeling and Praying

_**Chapter II: Kneeling and Praying**_

It was way too early in the morning for the phone to be ringing. Nothing, absolutely nothing would wake Dave Batista, including hurricanes and tornadoes, so Cheryl knew she was going to have to answer it. She could feel Dave's presence in the bed beside her. Plus, his light snore tipped her off to the fact that he had not risen yet. She rolled over to see the time and found, to her surprise, that it was mid-morning. As she threw a leg over the side of the bed to get up, the answering machine kicked on. That one motion set off a chain reaction and she dashed for the bathroom.

Kneeling on the tile floor, she prayed for her roiling stomach to settle. There was only supposed to be about four more weeks of this if she estimated how far along she was. She should have known when she couldn't shake what she thought was food poisoning when they got back from vacation. Her friends pushed her to see a doctor but she had only really lost her appetite and was occasionally nauseous. Still, the moment she returned from RAW this week, she was at the physician's, having blood drawn to run tests.

No big deal, especially when she had been feeling bad about halfway through their vacation. Before they left, she had found out about how Creative was bringing up the diva paired with the tag-team of Deuce and Domino and calling her by Cherry. After a long, heated argument with Dusty Rhodes about this choice, she was so angry over it that her stomach wouldn't settle. Whenever she got this upset, she couldn't eat and her nerves were on end to the point of nausea. It wasn't long before the thought was eating her up, knowing that Cherry was being brought up while they were on vacation and it would only be a few months before the veteran diva dropped 'Cherry' and went by 'Cheryl' only. The change would happen after a feud with the tag-team's valet. That wasn't the only change happening to her character as she settled in as Evolution's bitch and resident whore.

Her character, her passion was going to be reworked into something she didn't recognize and she could hardly understand why. Her nerves were on end, so it was no wonder that she didn't recognize her nausea as morning sickness. She was on one of those birthcontrol pills where she only had her period three times a year. That wasn't supposed to be a concern anyhow but one of those little suckers of Dave's had managed to do its job. It was probably back when she had a sore throat and was on amoxicillin. Despite taking extra precautions, their timing must have been off.

Running a hand over her face, Cheryl considered it safe to stand and rose to her feet, reaching across the basin to turn on the water faucet for cool water. Her stomach wasn't completely settled but she didn't want Dave to find her on the bathroom floor, not when she wasn't ready to tell him. She might be able to keep lying about how unsettling her nerves could be. Her first night in the WWE was almost as bad as this.

Cheryl would never forget how long she had sat on the edge of the bathtub, hovering above the toilet, before she was able to finally gain the gumption to get dressed and leave for the arena before her debut in the WWE. The next six months were to be a whirlwind. She couldn't _just_ go to the arenas, say her part, play her character, wrestle, and fly home. No, she had to inadvertently piss off Stacy Keibler, which made for an entertaining lockerroom feud if any of the divas could have distanced themselves from the fight. Victoria wouldn't admit it but she had taken great pleasure in letting Stacy have a piece of her mind when the two women finally called a truce.

But it didn't end with Stacy. Despite being billed as Triple H's half sister, her character was almost lost in the shuffle of interchangeable divas, especially with the addition of several diva contestants being hired at the same time. She had learned from Triple H that her name had been considered in the fifteen wrestler cut made that fall.

But just as the wrestling gods were smiling upon her, singling her out to be highlighted as the first and only female member of Evolution, she had wished otherwise. Her relationship with Batista was on the rocks and she was going to have to work very closely with him.

Dave and Cheryl had an almost laughable start. The two had an instantaneous attraction but he had assumed she was married because she wore a ring and never went out with any of them. She just assumed he wasn't interested in being anymore than friends. Nidia decided it was time that Cheryl started dating again because it had been over two years since her husband Pierce had died, so she set the redhead and Edge up. The two wrestlers dated for a little while but there was nothing between them despite how much they were trying to make it work. Dave then learned quickly that Cheryl was indeed available—or _had _been. After she and Edge were involved in a car accident, Dave threatened the blonde wrestler concerning Cheryl's safety. All of it resulted in Cheryl and Dave admitting their attraction and Edge being left out in the rain (although he conned Dave into setting him up with a friend). Sadly, Cheryl had not been able to let go of her deceased husband and Batista refused to compete with a ghost. After a couple months apart, the diva finally put her past life to rights and Dave was still waiting on her.

But while they were separated, Cheryl's character was brought into Evolution, making things a little awkward for everyone in the beginning. Cherry Leigh came into the company rough around the edges, Hunter's rebellious little sister who grew up while he was away wrestling. She was WWE's experiment, a diva who was one of the guys. But that was part of the problem with the shuffle. It came into play mostly as Triple H refined her to be a sophisticated female counterpart to the three remaining members of Evolution, Hunter himself, Ric Flair, and Dave Batista, as Randy Orton had defected months earlier.

Little by little, Cherry's tomboyish characteristics were done away with in the presence of Evolution. Hunter taught her to drink champagne rather than beer. Her jeans were traded in for evening gowns and tailored suits. When her brother took away her motorcycle was quite possibly the most fun that the diva ever had filming a vignette.

"You have turned into a beautiful woman," Triple H began, taking one of her hands into his and twirling her around for the camera to focus on her assets. "My baby sister all grown up."

Cherry arrogantly smiled, running the other hand down the silver and red sequined evening gown. A diamond necklace and tennis bracelet sparkled, catching the fluorescent light. The camera then pulled out to show Batista lasciviously staring at her. "It must be in the genes," the redhead replied, smoothing the lapel of Hunter's suit.

"You've come a long way," he said, casting a furtive glance at Dave.

"And I have you to thank." Cheryl had arrogance down to an art. It was so easy to play the heel and so much fun as well. She would eventually hone her craft to find she could do both face and heel well and enjoy being either. But with less than a year on RAW, her haughty glare was her trademark.

"I found a buyer for your Harley," Helmsley easily slid into the conversation.

"Pardon?" she replied, her champagne flute poised at the edge of her red lips.

"The Harley, you know it has to go, Cher. You have the limo and no woman of your stature," his arrogant and appreciative glance adding to his words, "should be riding one of those."

"Hunter…" she warned, her eyes glazing over with anger.

"Well, actually," he began and took a step back. "I've already sold it."

"What?" The camera shot was wide enough to see both Flair and Batista exchange worried looks.

"I didn't really sell it," Hunter began in a mollifying manner and Cherry's face relaxed but it was premature. "I kinda gave it to the Undertaker."

"You did _not _give it away," the redhead began, setting the flute down a little too hard. It fortunately didn't break but Triple H sent her a warning glance.

"I had to get him off our back. He promised to lay off if I gave him the Harley for his wife."

"Hunter, he's in negotiations to go to SmackDown. You didn't have to do that," she replied, her fists balling up at her sides. "Get—it—back."

"I can't just walk up to the _Undertaker _and ask for it back," Helmsley responded with a shrug and took several steps back, putting even more distance between them.

"I will kill you," she began, jerking her high heel off and throwing it at him. She whipped off the second and both Flair and Batista dashed for the door, the camera following the two of them. They winced as there was banging and a couple of screeches but a loud, low thud brought the both of them back in. Hunter was lying supine of the floor, semiconscious and groaning, and Cherry was uncapping a tube of red lipstick. She smiled evilly and leaned over her brother to write "DICK" on his forehead. Neither Flair nor Batista stopped her. After capping the tube, she ran her fingers through her disheveled curls and then leveled the two men with one look. "If either of you say one word to him," she motioned at her forehead, "I won't be so kind to y'all." Both Ric and Dave tried to hide their laughs but a smirk sneaked through on their faces.

The director yelled 'cut' and Hunter sat up, immediately bringing a hand to his forehead. "Don't touch it," Batista chided, grabbing his friend's hand. "You'll smear it."

"So I'm just supposed to spend," he stopped and grunted as Dave pulled him up off the floor, "the rest of tonight walking around with this on my face." Flair quit laughing long enough to reply in the affirmative and Cheryl only shrugged her shoulders, her lips in a tight, thin line to keep from giggling.

Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley indeed made her husband spend the next couple of hours with the red "DICK" on his head until the middle of the show. He was less than happy about it but his wife was having a riot. She still didn't particularly like Cheryl but this scene was necessary to get her over before Batista left the group. Embarrassing Hunter was perfect in her mind. Not only did the backstage enjoy it, giving them a pleasurable night, but the crowd went wild during the vignette and was in hysterics when Evolution made their entrance later that evening.

No one would remember what the promo was about, mainly because the crowd wouldn't settle down and the other three members of Evolution couldn't keep a straight face. The look on Hunter's face was priceless and would be replayed for years to come when he turned to the Titantron and saw the projected ten foot high red letters on his forehead. He whipped around to fix Cheryl with a stare as she couldn't control the giggles. When he advanced on her, Batista stepped in between them.

"Consider us even," she yelled around Dave where Hunter's mike could pick it up. In his anger, Helmsley 'forgot' what they were there for and stalked out of the ring. Flair and Batista followed suit but Cheryl remained to bob a curtsy to the crowd and blow a kiss in response to their applause. Dave had to return to pull her out of the ring and drag her grinning ass up the ramp.

Cheryl Batista smiled at the memory as she dried her face on a towel and hung it up on the dowel beside the sink. Stepping out of the bathroom, she noticed that Dave was beginning to stir. Holding back from telling him the news was killing her. But she only needed a few more days. Today was Thursday and the pay-per-view was Sunday. Monday would be the earliest she could tell him. It couldn't come fast enough but then again, it was approaching all too quickly when she had to find a way to say it.

TBC…


	3. A Rejoinder for Anything and Everything

_**Chapter III: A Rejoinder for Anything and Everything**_

"Mornin', baby," Cheryl greeted a bleary eyed Dave. He blinked at her and then yawned as she strode over to give him a peck on the forehead. If morning breath could be part of his character, he could rival the Boogeyman in being fearsome.

"Feeling better?" he asked, scratching his unmentionables and sliding out of bed.

"Yeah, I am," she lied, pulling open a dresser drawer and digging out a pair of shorts and a tank top to run errands in.

"You want me to fix your favorite for breakfast?" he asked with a yawn.

Thinking about a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich made her stomach roil again and she replied, "Naw, I'm fine. I was thinking about just a bagel this morning." She wasn't quick enough on her feet to put him at ease when he shot her a look of concern over turning down the meal down, especially since he was willing to prepare it. Instead, Cheryl muttered to herself about not having a clean bra and scooped up her clothes to head for the laundry room.

After changing out of her pajamas, the diva went to check the answering machine to see who had called. It was only Samantha Edwards, her opponent for Sunday night, wanting to know what she was going to wear for their match because she didn't want to clash with Cherry's outfit. That was the last thing on her mind but she had to pack tonight to leave in the morning anyhow and a decision needed to be made.

Something as simple as picking an outfit to wrestle in sounded so stupid. It was just another match and she wrestled two to four of those a week. But this was going to be her last match for some time, if not the last of her career. That is if she went through with the match. She still wasn't settled on if it was something she should or could do.

There was one thing that was certain, without a doubt unquestionable, she was going to have this baby. What was going to happen afterward was the issue. Retire or try to return to work was another problem altogether. If she didn't go through with this match, her last one would be losing to Melina and Samantha in a tag match with Candice, which didn't sit well wit her.

"When are we working out today?" Dave asked, coming into the kitchen where Cheryl was slathering a bagel with strawberry cream cheese.

"How 'bout after I get back from running some errands?"

"Alright, I'll come with you," he replied, opening the refrigerator and peering in.

"I want to go ahead and get them done. I'll be back by the time breakfast has digested and you'll be ready to go by then. I'm sure you've still got some business to take care of," she said in reference to the heavy packages sent to them yesterday containing scripts, itineraries, and more useless memos than necessary. She hoped that was enough to dissuade him to go. She needed to go to the pharmacy to fill the prescription for painkillers but, with Dave home early, she hadn't found a way to pick them up. They were safe enough for her to take while pregnant and she only needed to get through this weekend to take time off for her knee to heal. Dave didn't need to know it was bothering her this much still nor that she had to change prescriptions because that would only bring up the reason why. He again eyed her warily but she ignored him. "Anything you need from Wal-mart?" He shook his head in reply. "I'll be back soon," she added, kissing him on the cheek and taking her bagel with her.

Cheryl grabbed her keys and headed out the front door before he could change his mind. As terrible as it sounded, she preferred running errands without Dave—she got them done quicker. He wasn't the typical guy when it came to shopping and was as much a girl as she. Plus, he drew attention to them simply because of who he was. How could anyone the size of Dave Batista not turn heads the second he stepped into any establishment? For those who recognized them, autographs were inevitable. She didn't mind the fans but there was something wrong in being stopped by one while holding tampons, lubricant, or especially medication with the way the company was under scrutiny for the abuse of drugs. Pulling her ponytail through a cap and slipping a pair of sunglasses in place, she put the car in drive to head out.

Quite possibly the worst fan interactions Cheryl had experienced were when she and Dave were broken up in real life and then on-screen. She was not recognized often when she was on her own but, with Dave or with any of the other wrestlers, she was an easy target. Again, no complaints by the diva except when having to deal with the questions or the anger over the way she treated Batista.

With wrestling websites as bad as the celebrity gossip pages, only one click told the viewer that Dave Batista was dating the diva known as Cherry Leigh. They had been able to keep their break-up under wraps but then she had to field questions about where Dave was or how he was doing. She wanted to crawl under a rock and hide from the world and hope that those depressed feelings would go away. The woman had never lied so much in her life while she wondered what Dave was saying about her.

The two of them were going through a high-profile storyline. As part of Evolution, their characters were at the forefront of the shows. Considering that Triple H was using Cherry to attempt to get in Batista's head, the couple was spending a considerable amount of time on camera in each other's personal spaces. After getting past what could hardly be called a 'hang-up,' it was easy being intimate on-screen but it also drew a lot of attention to each other.

Creative's plan was to have Batista and Cherry Leigh become an onscreen couple only to have her turn on him. It was a given before their characters hooked up that Dave would be leaving Evolution in a major turn. Cherry was to remain on his side as he left the faction, seeming as she was turning on her half-brother. But once on the other side, she, as the guest referee, was to turn on him in his first match against Triple H for the title and she and the rest of Evolution would leave him a bloody mess in the ring. Cherry Leigh would then officially become the third member of the faction. Turning on Batista was the proof of her loyalty that Hunter demanded of her.

But things didn't exactly go down that way. Their popularity as a couple skyrocketed. Female fans were jealous of Cherry and were highly vocal about it but yet lived vicariously through her. Male fans wanted to be Batista for many reasons, Cherry one of them. This brought her to the attention of 'Stuff' magazine and she had her first lay-out outside of the WWE. Even Playboy sent an offer her way, which she promptly turned down. Other photoshoots put the two of them together in risqué poses that sold magazines quickly.

The fan reaction was too good to pass up. Creative decided to drag out the process and then revamped the idea that Cherry would turn on Batista. The massive wrestler overstayed his welcome in Evolution to the point of everyone wondering when exactly he was going to leave the group. Cherry was played back and forth between her boyfriend and her brother, both using her to try to determine what the other was thinking.

Triple H had secured himself another bid for the Heavyweight Championship against John Cena rather than allowing Batista an opportunity. Hunter knew better than to have Dave and Cherry accompany him to the ring and only brought Ric Flair with him. When it seemed that Cena had once again beaten the former champion, Batista interfered. At first, not even the fans could believe that the Animal was once again bailing out the leader of Evolution.

But even the wrestlers backstage were watching to see Batista press Triple H and throw him into Flair, sending both into the announce table. Cena had already backed off and was waiting to defend himself, assuming, like all others, that Batista was there to incapacitate him for the win. John's jaw fell to the mat as he watched the massive power displayed on the two wrestlers, which was an open opportunity for Dave to whirl on him and plow his elbow into the smaller man's face. Stepping back for a running start, Batista clotheslined the Champion over the top rope. He menacingly pointed at the ringside attendant who was holding the Heavyweight Championship belt. The boy cowered but timidly stepped forward as the wrestler beckoned him forward. Dave held the belt high in the middle of the ring as the crowd cheered what they had been wanting to see for months.

Batista then stepped through the ropes and jumped down off the ring to see Cherry Leigh standing at the top of ramp, her face begging to understand what he had done. She tentatively stepped forward, holding her hands out in question. "You know it had to be this way," he said but she only shook her head, looking back at him as she walked down the ramp. It was as if she didn't know whether to stay with her boyfriend or go to her brother. Finally, she turned her back on Dave to lend support to a limping and defeated Helmsley.

Over the next several weeks, Cherry Leigh was torn between the two most important men in her life. Was blood thicker than water? Was she the good girl or the bad girl? Both Hunter and Dave vied for her loyalties. The night of Batista's first challenge for the Heavyweight title, he demanded she make her choice. He expected her ringside and if she wasn't there, then he knew whom she had chosen. Triple H learned of the demand and stated the opposite—if she went out there, she could consider herself no longer his sister.

Cherry managed to pull the two men together in the same hallway, moments before Dave's match. The two wrestlers glared at each other, yelling threats over the security that separated them. Hunter had made it clear to Flair that he didn't care for Cherry like a sister as much as a stealing her from Batista to piss him off. Dave stated over and over that he loved her but it seemed more and more that he just wanted to make Hunter angry. The diva didn't care either way because she had had enough.

"Just shut up," she screamed. Neither of them quieted down. "I've made my choice." That was enough and both men stared at her, waiting for her response. "I'm tired of the both you, you hear me? I'm tired of being Barbie for you," she pointed at Hunter and then turned to Dave, "I'm tired of being the trophy girlfriend. I'm tired of being pulled in two different directions. I'm done, you got that? I'm done with the both of you."

"Cheryl—" Hunter began, rarely calling his sister by her nickname, which she preferred.

"No," she countered but Dave roughly pulled her to him, covering her lips with his. Her knees grew weak on camera, which Cheryl later admitted was not acting. Triple H pulled her away, a threatening glare on his face. She shoved his hands away and then wiped her mouth. "My choice is neither of you." The redhead whirled on her heels and stalked off, her high heels clicking on the concrete floor.

Cheryl took a few weeks off for vacation and went home as she was coming up on her one year anniversary with the company. With Hilton Head as such a high profile vacation town and the college kids pouring in for the summer, she didn't exactly escape wrestling altogether. Enter the second time in which she had the worst fan reactions. The fans were pissed at her for walking out on Batista and some were even angry that she could turn on her brother. _It's just a storyline_, she wanted to scream at them. The woman knew they understood that but it didn't stop the comments about her relationship with Dave. What's worst, they all wanted to know about her personal relationship with him. Did they break-up in real life? He wasn't angry at her because she had to walk out on him, was he? Having to answer those questions and when they really were broken up had prepared her quickly in her first year with the company to handle every fan comment out there. With the exception of getting caught in a drug store with yeast infection medication in her hand, she rather now enjoyed running into the occasional fan with the guts to approach her. Five years later, she had a rejoinder for anything and everything.

With that in mind, Cheryl Leigh-Batista slammed her car door shut, pulled her Nationals ballcap low, and formulated a response for the medication she hoped she didn't have to explain, more to her husband than to a random fan.

TBC…

**Author's Notes**: Again, Samantha Edwards does not belong to me but to WandaXmaximoff. Also, the onscreen feud and storyline between Sam and Cheryl for the pay-per-view is a creation of Wanda's.


	4. A Forgotten Vow?

_**Chapter IV: A Forgotten Vow?**_

Dave Batista was starting to worry about his wife. Yeah, they always had issues saying 'goodbye' at the airport. In other words, they didn't want to say goodbye. After almost two years of being on separate shows, it was still tough to leave for the weekend of shows.

The wrestler embraced his wife to kiss her and she clung to him tightly, her arms circling his back and her hands barely touching. She laid her head on his chest and could hear his heart beating. How could she leave without telling him? He deserved to know before anyone else but she still didn't know how to tell him. When they had gotten married, they had discussed children and, with Cheryl's tenure on RAW being only three and a half years, they agreed it wasn't fair for her to have children soon. It was career first. But there was also another selfish reason—Dave wanted to watch his kids grow up rather than hear about it while he was on the road. He didn't want to miss his baby's first step because he was squashing some unknown in a houseshow. He had every intention of retiring from wrestling with his firstborn and was very adamant about that. The time would be right, they were sure of that, when they were both ready to walk away from the company full-time. What made that decision hard was that they both enjoyed wrestling too much to quit any time soon.

Cheryl didn't know if that vow to retire was something he was still going to hold himself to two years later. He wasn't ready to quit and she knew it. She wasn't exactly ready either but having a baby was important enough to do so. It wasn't worth taking time off only to come back for a couple of years, dragging the poor kid around on the road, and then quitting again when it was time to start school or when they had another baby. No, it was going to end this weekend no matter what. Either last RAW or this pay-per-view was her last match.

Would seven and a half months from now be Dave's last match as well? _Hey, honey, guess what? We're having a baby and you have to retire! Hope you're ready for both. _She couldn't say it but she was going to have to. She couldn't put it off any longer than this weekend.

But Cheryl also knew that if she told him she was pregnant, he'd yank her out of the championship match faster than she could blink. Hell, WWE's doctors would do that but he'd beat them to it. She had to be sure she was going through with the match herself before she said a word to anyone in the company and to Dave.

"You sure you okay?" Dave asked again, pulling away from her and fingering her red curls.

"Yeah," she lied and gestured to the airport around them. "I'm just so tired of doing this."

"Almost over but I'll be there Sunday morning," he replied, holding back the threat on his tongue about making her tell the truth. If he didn't know better, he'd think she was going to leave him, as if this hug was her last goodbye, or she was being overly affectionate because she was cheating on him. But the sex from this morning said otherwise—damn, his body was still tingling from that. But then maybe, that was her way of saying 'sayonara,' give him some of the best sex of his life to throw him off, and then walk away. No, it was more than that. Maybe she was just still upset over Creative's plans for her character, the debut of the younger diva Cherry, and the fact that she had indeed hurt her knee and would have to admit it.

Whatever it was, he wished she'd tell him. He hated it when she was quiet and kept things to herself. After five years of being together, he still had to pry things out of her that she didn't 'want to burden' him with. She frustrated him to no end in that department and he'd rile her up to the point where she got fed up with him asking and let it all out. He'd start on her on Tuesday morning. He'd have it out of her before it was time to leave for next weekend.

Since Dave didn't know what exactly was bothering her, he had only one way to comfort her. "I'll talk to you tonight," he softly said, tucking several locks of hair behind her ear at one time. He then leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Can't wait to see that gold around your waist again."

Cheryl shivered and sighed against him before he brushed his lips across hers. He never failed to make her weak in the knees. "I'll pick you up at the airport Sunday," she said, stepping back and hitching her shoulder bag higher. With Unforgiven in Houston and RAW in Dallas, the couple was going to be able to spend both shows together. But first, she was off to an autograph signing to kick off ticket sales for Cyber Sunday, and Dave would be leaving tomorrow for a SmackDown houseshow, the draft to bring him to RAW not occurring until Monday night.

"That ain't a kiss," Dave stated and jerked her hard against him. When he finally released her, she felt dizzy and lightheaded and wandered off through security with a dazed smile on her face.

The flight was a little over two hours, giving Cheryl way too much time to think. With the kiss still lingering on her lips and a hint of Dave's cologne on her shirt, she couldn't stop thinking about her predicament. The match was going to have to be reworked—not all of it but a good bit. Both women had moves that would require her to land flat on her back, hard enough to make the mat shake. Those were going to have to go. It wasn't like she hadn't already wrestled pregnant anyhow. There was last week and the matches for three weeks leading up to Summerslam and that's not counting their kickass championship bout at that pay-per-view. One more match was not going to hurt, especially if they reworked it to be safer for her condition.

Over the past two years, the two divas had had numerous matches together given the small number of women wrestlers on RAW. This was their first feud however and it was barely underway before it had to end. It was a terrible shame because Sam was a skilled wrestler, training long before spending time in OVW. Cheryl enjoyed working with her given the woman's experience and work ethic and their trust in each other. Sam had been wrestling for about as long as Cheryl but the older diva had started training in her twenties rather than her teens. Sam would easily be able to change up the match on the spur of the moment. It would be convincing her to go through with the match and defy Creative's scripted plans for it. Plus, she wanted to redo the ending completely. The diva wanted to go out with a bang and make her last match memorable. Sam had a tendency to play by the rules when it came to work. Not that Cheryl didn't but she had learned in the past that taking chances could very much be worth it, even if that chance meant breaking the rules.

Cheryl had once taken a chance in accepting employment offered by some bartender/manager in her hometown despite have no experience on the club scene. She took a chance in accepting that man's invitation to lunch, which one day led to them marrying and her becoming Mrs. Pierce Elllis. While the cost was her husband to a drunken idiot with a gun, she was blessed by a three year marriage. It was at Pierce's insistence that she take a chance and train that led to the opportunity of a try-out with the WWE. She didn't feel she stood a chance at getting a contract but Pierce pushed her to try anyway. He never lived to know she had gotten the contract but that chance led to full-time employment with the WWE, a solid role on RAW as Triple H's half-sister, a second shot at love, and the amazing experience of winning the women's championship belt.

* * *

No words can even begin to describe the experience of winning the women's belt for the first time. Like a first kiss or first orgasm, the moment held its own in a wrestler's life. Of course, it's not like a diva didn't know when she would win but the actual moment, when that belt was placed in her hands officially for the first time, is impossible to convey through mere words.

Cheryl Leigh Ellis came into the RAW brand fully aware that she was not up for a bid for the women's championship. She was a warm body needed to fill space. It was the luck of the draw, her physical appearance that gotten her the role of Triple H's half sister. It wasn't a big deal initially, just a way to get her over with the fans. A stint with Evolution was not in the cards for her storylines when she was brought up. Being in the highly popular stable, which was well respected backstage, Cheryl then expected to compete for the belt and even win. Didn't Evolution need to add more gold to the faction? Sadly no. She was reduced to an ornament for Hunter and for Batista.

It was halfway into her second full year with the company before her first title reign. Once she turned her back on Batista and Triple H, she sunk to another one of the interchangeable divas. It was almost like they drew lots to see who was lucky enough to have a match on RAW. The focus on Cheryl had been dropped to give the limelight to more divas than the women's champion, Melina. It wasn't like the redhead could stay on top forever.

Cheryl worked mainly houseshows, competed in diva battle royals, showed up for composite photoshoots, and competed in bikini contests. Then out of nowhere, she was told that she would become the number one contender to the belt, eventually succeeding at New Year's Revolution against Melina.

It was virtually impossible to bill Melina as anything but a heel. She played a bitch like nobody's business and was rather unconvincing as a face, through no fault of her own. So, Cherry was back to being a face, if you could say she was one when she was first brought up to the big leagues. It was during this feud that she finally learned to play the good girl and enjoy it.

Maybe she had been overexposed as part of Evolution but suddenly the cheers were back and she was the 'it' girl with the fans. And, god, it felt good. While her character definitely did not command the same kind of reaction that her half-brother or former boyfriend did, Cherry still brought the fans to their feet, signs waving. Despite the ridiculous elation that buoyed her to the ring with shouts from the crowd, the euphoria of actually winning the belt made the almost orgasmic experience of making such an entrance seem like nothing.

Melina was a bit of a real diva and not exactly the positive aspects either but she was one of the experienced wrestlers who wasn't simply eyecandy turned wrestler in a matter of months. She was a solid opponent, one who Cheryl could trust to hold her own in a match.

To date, it was her best match. The more pressure she was under, the better she performed. It helped tremendously that the agents took the extra time to lay out the match as customary for championship bouts. The two women worked well together with no major slip-ups, just minor ones that only the agents would have noticed.

A facebreaker, the Cherry Stem, the pin. She felt like Shawn Michaels, falling to her knees and gripping the belt to her chest. It was not an act, she simply reacted. It was everything she had wanted for the past five years. It was Pierce's last wish for her career and what she and Dave had been working towards in her personal training. Her physical skills warranted the title reign but even more the company thought she could carry the women's division, that her skills and conduct were good enough for her to be at the forefront of the divas for the fans and in the lockerroom.

For as long as the ref would let her, she held the belt above her head in the ring, celebrating to the cheers of the fans in each corner. Unlike some wrestlers who wouldn't let fans touch them ringside, she carried the gold around the outside mat, slapping hands as she went. Seeing a little girl of about four or five years old holding a sign for her, Cheryl stopped and let the girl 'hold' the belt—obviously with Cheryl's support—while the child's father took a picture of them. It couldn't get any better, she thought.

On the other side of the entrance, Batista waited for her. Her eyes lit up and she dashed the several steps to jump into his arms, her legs around his waist and the belt squashed between their chests. She giggled and he smiled that panty-dropping smile before his mouth descended on hers.

"Get a room," Edge sarcastically interrupted. A deep blush spread through Cheryl's cheeks and she immediately disentangled herself. "Hug?" he asked and she grinned broadly and accepted Edge's embrace before receiving congratulatory hugs from several of her other friends.

* * *

Cheryl slipped in the earbuds connected to her mp3 player and leaned back in the airplane seat, pushing her reading glasses up the bridge of her nose to peruse the open magazine on her lap. Winning the belt for the fifth time was going to come close to feeling as good. She and Sam could be safe enough and still pull off a spectacular match. Now, how to decline the congratulatory drinks at the nightclub afterward without raising suspicion and then how to tell Dave the news he was going to be father without him realizing that she knew prior to the pay-per-view match?

TBC…


	5. She's My Cherry Pie

_**Chapter V: She's My Cherry Pie**_

The pamphlets were strewn across the hotel bed and Cheryl had no idea where to start. Who knew being pregnant was so damn hard? There was one on eating right, another on the appropriate vitamins and minerals. Then the one about what to expect in regards to body changes. She shivered at some of the descriptions in reference to private body parts and figured she'd cross that bridge when she came to it. No smoking, no problem. No alcohol—now that sucked. Hopefully she hadn't damaged the baby after how much she and Dave had drunk on their vacation—it was a veritable world of cocktails.

Cheryl dropped her glasses on the bed and rubbed her eyes. Giving up on thinking about whether she had enough iron and calcium, she gathered up the pamphlets and stuffed them back in her suitcase. Since seeing her physician for what she had thought was food poisoning or a virus, she hadn't the time to read all the information from the doctor without Dave being around. There would only be more to come when she visited an obstetrician next week, hopefully with her husband by her side.

Speaking of her husband, Cheryl needed to call Dave before she got ready for bed. She pressed speeddial for his cellphone and he answered immediately, giving her the impression he had been waiting on her. "Hey, hot stuff," he growled.

"Hiya, gorgeous," she purred, unzipping her garment bag and shaking out tomorrow's suit. "Wha'cha doing?"

"Thinking about what I'd do to you if you were here," he suggestively replied.

"Let me guess—both the Nationals and the Redskins are losing?" she asked in reference to both the Washington baseball and football games. She wasn't much of a sports fan. She could watch the major sports with Dave and her friends but she didn't follow any teams. Dave, on the other hand, had to know all the scores of his teams at the end of the day.

"Yeah," he whined.

"Sorry," she said, inspecting the suit to determine if it needed ironing.

"Flight go well?"

"Yeah," she absently replied.

"Just curious. There's a hurricane forming that they're expecting to hit the Carolinas in two days."

"Yeah, it's fine," she trailed off, her mind completely on the baby and the need for a new wardrobe in the future.

"Cheryl," he snapped her name to get her attention.

"What?"

"I just told you a hurricane would hit South Carolina and you said that was fine," he answered, the concern etched into his voice.

"Is there?"

"No, I just said it to see if you were listening to me."

"Sorry," she replied, rubbing her eyes before picking up her toiletry bag and carrying it into the bathroom. South Carolina… They were going to have to pick a place and stick with it when it was time for the baby to be born. They wouldn't be able to flit back and forth between Hilton Head and DC. Schools—which community had the better school, that would be where they'd settle. Their community in DC had a prestigious private school that was better than the island's public school. They could spend their summers in South Carolina.

"Cheryl!" Dave barked. "What's going on?"

"I drifted again, didn't I?"

"Slightly."

"I'm sorry," she sighed. "I'm just so tired that I must have almost fallen asleep. Dave, when did we decide we were going to the island for the winter?"

"The weekend after Halloween."

"Yeah, that's right," the redhead quietly replied. The couple had been splitting their time between their homes for four and a half years. They stayed in DC at Dave's place during the warmer months of the year and then at Cheryl's in Hilton Head when it was cool. It was like having a vacation home and they loved the change of scenery throughout the year. It had all started the weekend after Cheryl had won the women's championship belt and Dave had come back with her to Hilton Head. They had been together for barely a year at that point, having chosen new year's as an anniversary date since it was the first time that Cheryl had told Dave that she loved him. Since then, they had traded off here and there, her coming to stay for a week with him or him with her for a few days. This week, her family wanted to take her out to celebrate her win so they were on the island.

"Do you want me to wear a tie tonight?" Dave had asked, buttoning up his blue dress shirt.

"Only if you want," she replied with a shrug, barely successful at not launching herself at him and ripping that shirt right back off.

"Good, because I didn't pack any."

"There's several in the closet," Cheryl responded and pointed at it.

"Really?" he asked, pushing the sliding door aside. After a moment of perusing its contents, he exclaimed, "That's where my pink tie is."

"Babe, you've got enough clothes here to last a month. For that matter," she mused, "I think the black dress I'm looking for is at your house. We all but officially live together."

Dave turned around from flipping through the clothes in the closet. "You want to?"

"Want to what?" she asked, looking up from the vanity where she was applying her make-up.

"Make it official, move in together."

"You would move here?"

"Well, I meant you move in with me," he sheepishly replied, picking up his boots to sit down on the bed and to put them on.

"Um, my grandparents' house is going nowhere."

"I'm not suggesting you sell it."

She turned back to the mirror in thought and then faced him again. "We could split our time—summers in DC and winters in South Carolina."

Even married for three years now, nothing much had changed after their decision to move in together except they spent months at a time at each other's place rather than days. More clothes showed up in other closets, new gym memberships opened in opposite cities, names added to new addresses. Sports packages suddenly showed up on her cable subscription and paintings were added to his walls.

Two more months was a long time before seeing her parents to tell them the news that they would be grandparents again. "Do you think we could go—" Cheryl suddenly stopped. If she suggested they go home this week or the next week, Dave would know something was going on. She intentionally dropped a bottle of lotion on the floor where it would loudly clatter and then muttered a curse.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just dropped a bottle," she muttered, stooping over to pick it up.

"What were you about to ask?" he prodded, wondering what she thinking and hoping it would give him a clue to her odd behavior lately.

"Uh, you know, I don't know…" She trailed off, attempting to find a way to cover her tracks but there was nothing. "I forgot. I've had a tendency to do that lately."

"Yeah, I've noticed."

"Eh, it's nothing to worry about. I think my mind is still on vacation in the Caribbean. It'll catch up eventually. You know, I think I'm going to bed. Call you tomorrow night?"

"Get some rest, pum'kin," he softly said, choosing not to push her tonight. "Stay out of trouble tomorrow."

"I love you."

"You too," he said, his voice so low, so soft that it almost melted her resolve. She clipped her phone shut and began unpacking what she'd need in the morning for the autograph signing. Setting out her make-up, she saw something glitter in the bottom of the toiletry bag and upended it, shaking out tiny cherry appliqués. They must have gotten stuck in it and just now come loose. The appliqués were for her fingernails back when Creative had gone overboard with her character.

* * *

Cheryl's first title reign lasted for about five months before she yielded it to Trish Stratus. Most of the divas had been paired with male wrestlers and only a few remained to legitimately fight for the belt. It was time to shake things up a bit and this was Creative's way. With the championship on a face, a heel had to be in pursuit and that meant repackaging Cheryl's character. Cherry Leigh began to fully embody her name—Cherry was the theme.

She already wore red lipstick and red nail polish but now she was applying tiny cherry stickers to her nails, small temporary cherry tattoos to various body parts, and jewelry with cherry charms. Her trademark red leather jacket was exchanged for one with a large logo of twin cherries and her name in script on the back. The red tank-top and black leather pants were traded for either a red catsuit or a red bikini top and hot pants, all with cherry logos. The worst came with her entrance music—WWE had gotten permission to use Warrant's 'Cherry Pie.'

Cheryl wanted to crawl into a hole and die. She honestly didn't think it could get any worse. Her character acted like she was the pure, innocent virgin but then she was seen chatting up every man in sight. Who knew what the hell they were doing and why but, in the beginning, she showed up every day to do her job and put on the best damn performance possible.

If it wasn't for the thematic overdrive, Cheryl would have enjoyed playing the villain and chasing the belt again. Within several months, she won another title reign due to Trish injuring her back. But when the panic was over of putting the championship on another diva, the writers' deemed it necessary to put the title on Mickie James.

The fans were mixed in their reaction. At first, the male fans thought she was the best thing since sliced bread given the insinuation of the cherry theme. They had the best of both worlds, a naughty redhead versus a blonde bombshell. What man wouldn't want to watch a WWE diva tie a knot in a cherry stem with her tongue?

In almost three years, it was the third time she had tied one on camera. During her OVW training, she had been told to learn to do it for her character. It had taken over a year to come remotely close and then another year to get it up to the speed the writers' wanted. She had been pretty pissed that she hadn't been called upon to tie one with her tongue until she was trying to seduce Batista while in Evolution. The result had been terrible and the director had to cut the scene until she got it tied and then edit it to look like she had done it in a matter of seconds. This time was much better and before she knew it, she was tying one every week while moving through the scene with ease.

But the problem with all this, after a year, was the character overdrive was losing ground with the fans. Cherries had been pushed on them to the point where Cherry Leigh was just plain annoying. She knew it and most everyone around her knew it. The diva lost steam and her job performance began to suffer. No one cared and she was close to not caring either. So, it was no surprise when her name came up for the second time in three years to be released from the company.

One of the agents called early that morning and asked her to be at the arena an hour earlier than the appointed time for RAW. Any time she was asked to be seen was akin to being called to the principal's office at school. The woman had no idea discussions were under way to trim the budget through releasing superfluous wrestlers but she knew whatever it was could not be good.

Cheryl tentatively knocked on the door she was directed to and a low voice called her in, one that she recognized as Triple H's. "Hi, Hunter," she nervously replied, glancing around the conference room to see no one else.

"Have a seat, girl," he said with a smile, directing her to one of the large leather chairs.

His light-hearted request did nothing to ease the tension but she managed a half grin as she settled down. "So, what's up?"

"There's really no point in beating around the bush, so I'll get right to it. This meeting was supposed to include Vince and Stephanie but Vince is running behind and Steph isn't feeling well at the moment, so it's just me," Hunter explained, hiding the fact that his wife was pregnant and morning sickness had her stranded at the hotel. They weren't ready to announce that they were expecting yet.

Cheryl nodded and quietly replied, "Okay."

"We're entering discussions about the need to release wrestlers from the company."

"Oh, god," the redhead breathed. Suddenly she couldn't feel her feet and legs and her heart began pounding. They had sent Hunter to tell her because of their relationship. The two wrestlers had settled into an easy friendship despite their places in the company and some staff had even accused her of having his ear in matters of salary and storylines. Given her distaste for her character, nothing could be further from the truth.

"No, wait. It's nothing definite yet," he hurriedly added, putting a hand on her arm. "I don't want to see you released. You're slacking and you're going to have to step up out there. The diva contestants have more fire in the ring than you do."

"Hunter, look at my character!" she exclaimed. "Would you want to play that?"

He didn't say anything for a moment and then nodded, "You've got a point. But there's no reason for us to make any major changes or give you a push with your attitude right now."

"Which is a result of the character."

"Yeah, I know. Listen to me, I'm really glad that Vince and Steph aren't here so I can tell you this. You have the potential to be one of the top divas of the company like you were in Evolution and with your first title reign. I know you can be from how we've worked together. I don't want to see you go and I want you to hear this from _me _rather than be intimidated by the boss. But you have to act like that this is where you want to be, where you're supposed to be because there are ten diva contestants waiting to take your spot."

When the fire flashed in her eyes, Triple H knew that his words had hit home. He would never forget when she had stood up to him for the rash of diva contestant hirings over two years ago. While it had initially pissed him off, he had seen the passion that could make her a good wrestler rather than just a bimbo who could move only when prompted by the director. That woman was no longer on the stage and he didn't want to see her go just to be replaced by vapid eyecandy. So, he intentionally riled her up.

"Is that so?" she asked, her eyebrows raised.

"Yes and you know it. If we make cuts in six months or a year from now or even in the next three months, I'm afraid that you'll go with your performance lately. But I have good news for you though. I want you to take two weeks off. Go home and be with Dave. Take care of him and raise his spirits. _Then _come back and be this pissed off at me"

"I-I'm not p-pissed."

The stutter told him otherwise but he wouldn't point that out and embarrass her. "Don't worry about it, Cher," he replied with a dismissive wave. "I'll see you in two weeks. Don't get out of bed," he added with a wink. He already knew that she was going to be given a couple of weeks in hopes that just a little time off would be what it took for her to relax and refresh. He knew Dave was going stircrazy as well after tearing the muscle in his back. He was two months away from coming back and was mentally ready to return but physically being held back. Cheryl being home would help him as well.

* * *

Cheryl dropped the tiny appliqués into the trashcan and then, with one more glance at her suit for in the morning, she slipped into bed. Despite the depression of a bad character choice and the embarrassment of almost being fired, the diva was going to miss her job. She had accomplished so much in her career by this point and a fifth title win would cap that career off.

But the sister of Triple H, the former girlfriend of Batista, the ex-lover of Edge, and the almost five time women's champion, Cherry Leigh was ready to accomplish one more thing, to take on one more career title, that of mother. She giggled and snuggled farther under the blanket; she was going to bust before she could tell someone.

TBC…


	6. Say My Name

**Author's Notes: **The "flashback" in this chapter served as the epilogue for "Blessed: Not Unlucky." I posted it quite some time after I finished the fic and thought it would fit nicely into this story in this chapter. If you've already read the epilogue and don't want to read it again, you can easily follow the story by reading what comes before and after it.

_**Chapter VI: Say My Name**_

Cheryl twisted in front of the mirror in a red trimmed black suit to ensure that she wouldn't accidentally be obscene in any way for pictures with the fans. At the last second, she clipped the front of her hair up and spritzed a cherry body spray on the locks and any exposed skin. Fans liked the scent given her name but she only wore it for close interaction and had almost forgotten it this time. Perfume had turned her stomach for the past week but this morning seemed to be a good one. If it stayed that way, she was going to eat the biggest supper she could stuff down her throat. She was too tired from not eating enough lately. The beauty of being a wrestler was the need to eat more calories than the average person and she loved her food. She, Dave, Sam, and Sam's best friend, Mike Summers, had been known to take out a buffet all on their own.

Cheryl doublechecked the room one last time to be sure she wasn't leaving anything behind since both she and Edge would be flying out tonight to Houston for tomorrow's pay-per-view. Even though Edge was on ECW, the plans were to have all the champions at least appear the night before the draft to build it up. Giving herself the all-clear, she grasped the suitcase handle with her left hand and realized her wedding rings were missing. Her eyes swept all the surfaces in the room but they were clear. She absently rubbed the tattoo that served as a permanent ring while frantically searching her mind for the last time she saw it.

Maybe it had fallen off the nightstand when she woke up from a nightmare last night. Cheryl hit the floor on her hands and knees, running her palms along the floor and peering beneath the furniture. Thinking she saw a glint of gold, she flattened herself, cramming her body under the edge of the bed frame and reaching as far as her arm would allow. Her fingers brushed cold metal but she managed to flick it her way. Blowing off the lint, the dream was almost forgotten in her joy of finding the engagement ring and its jacket.

Until her relationship with Dave, she had had nightmares on and off about the death of her husband, Pierce. She was always rushing to the club where he had been shot but it was in slow motion and she would arrive too late—the ambulance had already left or he was already dead. Last night was the first time in years she had had this dream but when she arrived at the club, her head pounding from a sinus infection, it wasn't Pierce being loaded into the ambulance but Dave. She had jerked awake to find her head wedged between the nightstand and the bed, the rest of her body diagonal on the bed. At least her position explained the pounding headache. It had taken a long time for her to go back to sleep and then only after getting out her wallet and flipping through the several pictures she carried of her and Dave. One of their wedding pictures was of him staring down at her and cupping her cheek and she gazing back, her hand with her new rings resting on his chest. How did they ever come to doubt that relationship?

* * *

Cheryl Leigh stood in front of the full length mirror as five women fussed about her, smoothing down imaginary wrinkles on her dress and twisting her curls before patting them back in place. She was oblivious to the cooing and praising going on around her by the four women dressed in identical red satin gowns and her mother, attired in a pale pink fitted dress suit. She was moments away from walking out that door and becoming Mrs. David Michael Batista. The woman shivered at the thought and Roslyn immediately asked if she was alright. "Just nervous, momma," she replied with a slight smile. 

Nicole Leigh, her sister-in-law, waddled over with a bouquet of pink roses tied with a red ribbon and handed them to the bride. "Are you sure you can do this?" Cheryl asked of the woman who was now eight months pregnant. Her dress hadn't been intentionally ready until four days earlier.

"I feel great," she gushed. "I'm just so glad that I could be in the wedding. Afterall, you _were _in mine and Craig's." Nicole waddled off again and brought back the bridesmaids' bouquets of white roses, tied with pink ribbons.

Cheryl's mouth suddenly went dry when a knocked sounded at the door and she heard her brother, Craig, calling from the other side. "Are y'all ready in there?"

All the girls stopped, staring at Cheryl in anticipation. She nodded but then said, "I need just a couple of minutes alone, please." Nidia, Lita, Victoria, and Nicole filed out along with the bride's mother.

The diva carefully arranged her dress to sit on the stool that was in front of the vanity. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before reflecting over the events of the past six months that led up to this moment.

Right after Christmas, Dave had begun acting strange, hiding from her to make phonecalls and making sure she couldn't read his e-mail while he was checking it. Then he suddenly announced that he had a surprise for her but that it was a secret. She would find out that weekend, he informed her. This New Year's Eve they would have been together for three years—the couple had chosen that date since it was the first time that Cheryl had told Dave that she loved him.

That weekend, RAW had houseshows in California and would kick off the new year in Honolulu. When they landed in San Diego, Cheryl was surprised when Dave steered her in the direction opposite of baggage claim. "We have a connecting flight," he smirked. She stared at him dumbfounded until he stopped before a terminal that indicated that the next flight was going out to Honolulu. When Cheryl tried to form the question of what in the hell they were doing, he grinned and replied, "We have the weekend off and we're spending it in Hawaii."

"Oh, Dave! This _is _a surprise," she squealed and flung her arms around him.

"That's not the surprise," he replied, rubbing a hand over his chin. Cheryl paused, at a loss for what could be coming next. Maybe he had gotten them a room at a resort or a spa and he had a weekend packed full of things to do together.

For the most part, they slept late, swam in the ocean, snorkeled, toured the island by bicycle and helicopter, and then imbibed a little too much in the evening. On New Year's Eve, they had a romantic dinner in a fancy restaurant but then retired to their hotel room afterward, ripping off clothing before they were barely in the room. Minutes before midnight, the couple had turned the television up to hear the countdown to the new year while they sat out on the balcony to watch the fireworks that the concierge had informed they could see from their room. Clothed in complimentary terry cloth robes, Cheryl sat on Dave's lap, leaning back against his broad chest.

"It's almost time," she whispered, carefully turning around and straddling him to receive her new year's kiss. 

"You know that surprise I mentioned?" She nodded, vaguely hearing the shout of "ten" on the television. His hand snaked down into the folds of the robe and produced a black jewelry box. "You are my entire life and I can't _ever _imagine being without you. Cheryl Leigh, will you marry me?" He flipped open the box to reveal a diamond solitaire flanked by two smaller rubies. He had wanted to ask her at dinner and had it all carefully planned out. He wanted to do everything different than when Pierce had asked her. But she had knocked over her wine at the table, shattering the glass on the floor. The woman had been so embarrassed that he hadn't want to call anymore attention to her by getting down on one knee and proposing in front of the whole restaurant. Looking back on it now, he knew it was a stupid idea as she was such a private person and was glad she had foiled his plan.

Cheryl blinked at him, completely at a loss for words. "One" rang out on the television and fireworks burst behind them. The different colors lit up his expectant face, reflecting the anxiety in his eyes, and she nodded before exclaiming "yes" and throwing her arms around his neck. She pulled back to kiss him and he slipped the ring on her finger before placing both of his hands gently on her cheeks. The fireworks illuminated her red hair and he thought she had never looked more beautiful. "I love you," he said and she returned the sentiment.

"Let's not wait. Let's have an island wedding. Just the two of us out on one those boats. You know that boat captains can perform weddings just as well," she excitedly gushed.

"You don't want a huge church wedding or something?"

"Been there, done that, don't need it," she replied, waving him off.

"You at least want your family there?"

Cheryl stopped and realized how selfish she was being. Dave had never been married and it wouldn't be right to deny him his wedding with his family and friends. "You know what, baby, we'll do whatever you want. This is your day too. It's just that I've been through it all before and…we'll make it _your_ day."

"I've got an idea," he replied, "you know those shows where the groom has to put the wedding together with the best friend and all. Let me do it. You kick back and let me put it together."

"Oh, Dave, that's just too much to ask."

"But I _want _to do it."

"Alright, but just remember that I can't wear white since I've already been married," she warned with a grin, slipping off his lap and tugging him back into the hotel room.

Dave nodded at her comment, completely unaware that that was part of wedding etiquette. He'd talk to Nidia to make sure he didn't commit any more bridal faux pas. 

The affianced couple agreed that six months would be enough time and set the date for the Summerslam pay-per-view, which was actually in Charlotte, North Carolina, a nice in-between location for both families, as well as allowing all the wrestlers and staff to attend who wished to do so. They were both granted the weekend and the following week and a half off and the story lines were written to include their absence. 

Cheryl's character hadn't exactly lost her ubercherry theme but she was now just one of the women in the diva stable, making appearances when necessary. There had been two title challenges in the past year, giving her a little extended television time. Batista had just ended a feud with Edge and this was a good way to let him disappear for a while to make a nice comeback for a title run.

Knowing Nidia was involved with the wedding plans, Cheryl was hardly worried about what Dave would come up with and concentrated on her job. The only thing she didn't like about giving him full reign was that he spent a lot of time hiding from her to make the arrangements. The most involvement Cheryl had in the wedding was the ability to choose her dress. Three months before the wedding, she still hadn't found one she remotely liked and Daphne, Dave's cousin who had been obsessed with him and had finally warmed up to Cheryl, offered to design and make her dress if she would model it for an upcoming show and allow her to keep the design as her own to maybe market later. The two worked together, Daphne convincing her to that she could indeed wear white if she wanted but the bride only conceded when they added a splash of color.

Six weeks before the wedding, Cheryl felt she had to make one particular visit. She and Dave stayed in South Carolina that week at her request. The morning before they were to fly out for the weekend for the houseshows, she rose early and quietly dressed but, as she was reaching for her keys, Dave appeared at the top of the stairs and asked where she was going. The woman was horrible at lying and muttered, "Nowhere in particular."

"Well, then you won't mind if I come," he replied and hurried into the bedroom to put on some clothes. He knew exactly where she was going and he wanted to come with her.

Cheryl nervously glanced at her fiancé as she drove down the four lane highway off the island and then pulled into the cemetery that was only a few miles away from her parents' home. She slipped out of the car but Dave didn't immediately follow—he wanted to give her some time alone.

The redhead stood at the foot of the grave and lightly tossed a lily onto the grass. She had overcome her aversion to lilies and bringing one was symbolic that she had accepted all that had happened to her. The shotglass was gone, probably taken by her former in-laws and thrown away or removed by the caretaker for the safety of others. It didn't matter to her because that was life. She shoved her hands in her jeans pockets and mouthed what she had to say. "There's no point in me telling you what I've been up to. I know you know and I know I have your blessing. I just felt as if I should, well, acknowledge you in some way." She smiled at the gravestone and turned around to find Dave watching her. He was surprised that she was done so quickly.

When his fiancée took his hand, he said, "Just a second. I'm right behind you." She nodded and headed on to the car. Dave had never been here before and it was never really his place to be so but he too felt he should acknowledge his bride's former husband. "Thanks for letting me have your wife, man," he whispered and winked at the grave before joining Cheryl.

The morning of the wedding, the redhead was collected by her bridesmaids—the only other decision left up to her—and whisked away in a blindfold by limo to an undisclosed location. The girls giggled all the way there and as they carefully maneuvered her out of the vehicle and into the building and to her dressing room. She was nervous about what her future husband had in store for her but yet so excited to see what he had put together. Realizing she had spent enough time alone, maybe too much, she gathered her skirts together and the bouquet and stepped through the door into a hallway that she was positive looked like an arena. Maybe they were indeed at an arena but some places had very nice attached gardens or banquet halls.

Craig greeted her and carefully hugged her to keep from wrinkling the dress. "I never thought this day would come," he said and kissed her on the cheek.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she sarcastically replied.

"You know what he means," her mother good-naturedly chided. "We all thought that," she added and her father nodded in agreement. "But we're so happy that you've finally found someone who loves you more than the world and you're so happy with him."

Cheryl smiled and blushed. "Well, then let's not keep him waiting."

The small party carefully maneuvered down the hallways that was lined with WWE equipment and cords criss-crossing the floors. Cheryl knew now that she was in the venue for the Summerslam pay-per-view and knew that this could be very interesting indeed. When they stopped before the stairs that led up to the entrance, Craig left them and she began to wonder what in the name of all that was holy Dave had done. They climbed the stairs and gathered in the small area that was the gorilla position. The soundman asked if they were ready and when Cheryl nodded, "Trumpet Voluntary" started. She cringed and hoped no one saw her. The woman had casually mentioned that she did _not _want that song, especially if she had to walk the aisle to the "Bridal March." Nidia saw the face the bride made and smiled to herself. Oh, she was in for a surprise. As the bridesmaids began their entrance, Dave's sister ushered his niece, Alexandra, along with Nidia's three year old son, up the stairs. They were the most adorable flower girl and ring bearer attired in their miniature dress and tux. Alexandra was taking her role watching Joaquin very seriously as she grabbed his hand and led him out at her mother's cue.

Cheryl then stepped up to the black curtain, almost afraid of what she was going to see on the other side. With her parents flanking her, they swept the curtain aside and her eyes lit on the ramp that normally sloped but was elevated from the stage to the ring. The ropes were missing on that side of the ring but the rest of them were wrapped with vines. The mat was covered with black carpet and pedestals were in the corners with vases of red roses perched on them. A wrought iron lattice was along the back, vines and roses entwined in it. On the right side, the groomsmen proudly stood—Craig Leigh, Ric Flair, Randy Orton, and Triple H as best man. None of those were a surprise to her. Shawn Michaels standing in the place where she expected to see Kathy, the priest of her parish and who had performed her first wedding, was a bit of a surprise until she remembered that Shawn indeed was ordained. She was honored that he would be officiating their wedding as it was he who had given Cheryl the initiative to reconcile with Dave.

Before she saw her fiancé, the stage rumbled with an explosion of fireworks and Trapt's "Headstrong" thundered into the sound system. She began to laugh uncontrollably as they proceeded down the "aisle." Roslyn casually produced a tissue and Cheryl dabbed at her eyes as she tried to focus on the ring. She grinned like a fool when she saw Dave step out from behind Triple H. For the love of god, he was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. He was dressed in a black tuxedo, a red and gold vest rather than a cummerbund, and an English collar with a button rather than a bow-tie and a red rose was pinned to his lapel. She only had eyes for him and it wasn't until the music stopped that she realized they had an audience cheering for them ringside. Family and friends were all gathered around the ring in long rows of fold up chairs. 

Dave was blown away by his wife-to-be. She was amazing in his opinion, dressed in a long white strapless gown. The hem of the dress sported red gems in large sunburst patterns and a red sash was tied around the empire waist, which formed a small bow with the ends of the red ribbon falling halfway down the gown. Her hair was now several inches past her shoulders and her loose curls lay against her neck and back, only the crown was pulled away from her face with a long gauzy veil, with red studs, nestled in the curls. She only wore a hint of make-up, none of it covering up the freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks. Seeing his gift to her, he swallowed hard as the diamond pendant fastened to a red ribbon swayed sensuously in the hollow of her throat.

Shawn gave Cheryl a moment to take it all in before he began. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today. Wait, wait, wait," he said, waving his Bible around, "we have to do this right. Are you ready?" The audience let up a cheer equivalent to a packed house. Shawn bent low and continued. "For the thousands in attendance and the millions watching at home, Cheryl and Dave, get ready to get married!" Neither of them had been expecting that and dissolved into laughter. This was by far not the most orthodox wedding anyone in attendance had ever witnessed.

When the cheering had died down, Shawn continued in all seriousness, asking who was giving the bride away and then offering up a prayer. Cheryl wound her arm around Dave's and the two stood side by side until it was time to say their vows. She handed her bouquet to Nidia and grasped Dave's hands as they faced each other. She wanted to laugh at how much their palms were sweating. 

Dave spoke first and had them laughing as he recounted his story of chasing her and then thinking she was married and then believing he had lost his chance when she was dating Edge. He kept it discreet, not mentioning about the first time they made love or when he had demanded that she let Pierce go. She could see it all in his eyes. He ended with how much he loved her and how he was going to make her his princess for the rest of his life. He then slipped the accompanying jacket around her engagement ring.

Cheryl stared up into his chestnut eyes and licked her lips before beginning. "I will n-never forget…" she began to falter. The redhead only stuttered when she was talking with an unfamiliar person or very nervous. Dave had been terrified that she had changed her mind when they were running five minutes behind and now she couldn't say their vows. She dropped her eyes to their hands and he gently squeezed hers. Cheryl took a deep breath and then looked back up at him before launching into her memorized vows. She was shaking like a leaf as she slipped the gold band with embedded diamonds on his finger.

"Everything is gonna be alright from here on out," he whispered to her as they stepped aside while Lilian Garcia began to sing a song that she had personally written some time back but hadn't recorded yet. Dave wrapped an arm around his bride and she placed her hand on his chest, admiring the ring.

She and Lilian were not close and she whispered to Dave, "How did you get her to sing?"

"Well…" he began. "We dated once."

"I take it that you ended on amicable terms," she replied with a smile, realizing that even though she didn't know everything about her new husband, she had a lifetime to break that mystery that was Dave Batista. He nodded in response and gave her a sheepish grin.

The couple once again stood in front of Shawn who traditionally concluded the ceremony. "By the authority vested in me as a minister of the gospel, I now pronounce you husband and wife, in the name of the Creator, the Redeemer, and the Sustainer. Therefore, what God has joined together, let no one put asunder. Dave, you may now kiss your bride." The catcalls went up from the audience as his mouth descended upon hers. As many times as they had kissed before, this was as if it was their first one, sweating palms, trembling hands, and pounding hearts. If this was a preview to their wedding night, she wanted to skip the reception. Shawn jokingly kicked Dave in the shin and the two finally broke apart. The older man grinned at them and then announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, may I be the first to present to you Mr. and Mrs. David Batista."

Dave's entrance music sounded and Cheryl knew that it could end no other way. After his pyro went off, the newly married couple then recessed up the ramp to the stage. Behind the black curtain, they once again kissed, oblivious to the fact that the place was becoming crowded as the bridal party was filing in. 

After all the pictures, the redhead allowed her husband to escort her to one of the banquet halls where they would have refreshments before the two left for the bridal suite of the hotel they were staying in. Dave surprised her again when he told her they would be staying in the Caribbean until they had to be back in two weeks' time.

In the banquet hall, a table was set up with a large white cake and a long table with finger foods. Everyone was expectantly waiting on them to cut the cake so they could dig in. The couple carefully cut a slice and Dave lifted the small piece to his wife's lips as she did the same for him. He knew that she had threatened Pierce within an inch of his life if he shoved the cake in her face but that didn't stop Dave and she was shocked as she turned away, snorting the cake out her nose. Her mother hurried over and handed her a handkerchief but then produced a whip cream pie that Dave didn't see. With a wide grin, Cheryl whipped around and plastered him in the face with the tin. Scrambling away before he could get his hands on her, Cheryl was shielded by her bridesmaids and a few of the other divas.

"That was my idea," a blonde said in her ear and she smiled at Samantha Edwards, who had only been brought up to RAW a couple of months ago.

"We are going to get along so well," the redhead laughed in response.

Once the newly married couple cleaned themselves of cake, they mingled among their friends and family until the wrestlers and staff could wait no longer until time to finish preparations for the pay-per-view. Even though it was early afternoon, Cheryl tossed her bouquet and Samantha caught it. The redhead didn't miss the sarcastic comment made by John Cena at the blonde or her equally acerbic retort. God knew what was going on there. Dave made way too much out of taking her garter off with his teeth but it only went to show how much he loved her and how proud he was of her. When Orton caught the red lacy garter, a collective sound of disgust echoed throughout the crowd.

The couple dashed through the bubbles their friends and family were blowing at them and then ducked into the waiting limo. "God, I love you, pum'kin," Dave said, pulling her close and brushing his lips across hers.

"I love you too, baby," she replied. "Everything was perfect."

"I was so afraid," he responded, tangling his hands in her hair and pulling her in for another kiss. Finally drawing back, he solemnly stared into her hazel eyes and added, "I meant every word I said in there, Cheryl Inez _Batista._"

"You remember when you made me say your name?" He nodded—it was a moment he would never forget. She leaned in very close and murmured against his lips, "You'll never have to ask again."

* * *

Cheryl honestly hadn't believed she could love Dave any more than she had on their wedding day. And now, she knew better because she was more in love with her husband than ever before, something an almost failed marriage was responsible for. This child would probably change that as well, hopefully for the better if he didn't resent the situation, the fact that they didn't plan for this. Why would he? There was nothing giving her any reason to doubt him. She'd be lucky if he let her out of the house given how protective he could be of her. Just as long he didn't find out that she was going through with this match and keeping the knowledge to herself that he was going to be a father. She couldn't wait to tell him. 

Never in a million years did she think that after Pierce died that she could love so fiercely and that she would find someone else with which she would start a family of her own.

TBC…

**Author's Notes:** Yes, Cheryl has decided to go through with the pay-per-view match. That does not mean I condone wrestling while pregnant. You'll see more of how and why she justifies it in the next few chapters. That also does not mean there won't be reprecussions for doing so. I will give this much away: those reprecussions are in regards to relationships and not danger to her health and the baby (which are both serious matters in this case and someone will definitely let her know about that).

A quick thanks to everyone reading and reviewing! Love you much!


	7. A Lesson Taught But Not Learned

_**Chapter VII: A Lesson Taught But Not Learned**_

The town car was already waiting to take Cheryl to the autograph session. When the driver opened the door for the diva, a grinning face greeted her. "Hey, chick," Edge said way too cheerfully.

She had always wanted to call him Mr. Teeth from the Muppets but didn't want to hear what name he'd come up with for her. The two of them had one of the oddest relationships she had ever known. The redhead was one of those people who had only a couple of close friends and many good acquaintances. Her close friends seemed to move through her life as she changed jobs or locations.

While she had only known Edge for five years, they could have characterized their relationship in several ways. A night of commiserating together led to them going out a few times. They were each other's reintroduction to the dating world, she after the death of her husband and he after a heartbreaking divorce. They both realized that they were better off friends and she went on to date Batista and Edge started pursuing a cute backstage coordinator by the name of Leila. They still talked occasionally, spending more of their time with their significant others.

Dave and Edge never really got along to begin with and his jealousy over her dating Edge only made it worse. The blonde dating Leila, another friend of Dave's, irked him to no end. So, when Cheryl and Edge were put into a storyline that required them to act intimately, needless to say, Dave didn't do well with it but she didn't exactly respond to his being upset all that well either.

* * *

The trend with the women's division continued and the divas were scattered and attached to male wrestlers. With Dave and Cheryl's marriage, the writers were going to write them into a TV relationship but with Undertaker and Booker T getting injured, Batista was drafted to SmackDown less than a month after they returned from their honeymoon. So, in the lottery of 'available' wrestlers, Cheryl went to Edge.

For several weeks, everything cherry came back out for a later dramatic change. For the first few weeks, nothing much happened except the two of them talking. Edge wasn't exactly subtle about his intentions but Cherry would just coyly smile and decline his offers. After a particularly hefty insult from several of the divas, she threw herself at the wrestler. The next week, Cheryl accompanied Edge to the ring. The only evidence of her past character was the name and the cherry tattoo on her shoulder. No red, except maybe her hair which she argued to be orange, but blacks and blues, Edge's choice of colors. Tight pants, low cut top, inviting and alluring but still some left to the imagination. The point of it all—she was now a woman, Edge had popped her cherry. Forget the fact that she had been in the company for almost four years and had a relationship with Batista while in Evolution. But the kicker was that Edge had done what Batista couldn't—get in Cherry's pants. The wrestler had not only defeated the Animal but was more of a man than his former opponent.

Edge and Cherry danced the line of simple heels versus the slut and the bastard. The point of their relationship was not to be raunchy or get cheap pops. But that didn't stop the public displays of affection, something that wasn't beyond Dave objecting to but at least privately. Still, for their run together, the onscreen couple worked more as the wrestler with his girlfriend than as partners. There were a few tag team matches but mostly Cherry was the diva on Edge's arm to add spice to his presence and do the occasional interfering. There wasn't any hint of trouble in paradise between the faux couple as Creative let their relationship play out as long as they could. It was a real life relationship that was falling apart.

Cheryl and Dave hadn't been married two months before their travel schedules split. In a typical month, their itineraries allowed them home together for eight nights. All their friends said they moped around at work the first couple of months. Dave was all Cheryl could think about and she was all he could think about. That was probably why the writers were questioning how stiff she looked in Edge's arms.

"Step it up, sexy, Cheryl, sexy," the diva mocked Dusty Rhodes. "Alright, how do we do this?" Creative wanted to move their relationship along, showing a slow transformation in Cheryl's character. Loosening her up and the two of them showing more heat was the next step.

Edge shrugged and replied, "Well, let's try for the hottest thing we can. If we don't practice, it won't look natural."

"Okay," she sighed and placed light hands on his chest.

In response, Edge dropped his hands to her waist. "Okay."

She tipped her head up and he lightly brushed her lips with his. The diva pressed closer to his body and tossed her hair back. Blowing his breath out heavy through his nose, Edge paused and then his mouth descended hard on hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and then entwined her fingers in his hair. He ran his hands up her back, pressing her breasts closer and deepening the kiss. When they pulled apart, he nipped at her slightly swollen lips a few times.

Through an exhalation, Cheryl said, "If you had kissed me that way when we were dating, we might have gotten somewhere."

Someone clearing their throat behind them broke their bubble and the two turned toward the sound to see Dave Batista staring at them with narrowed eyes.

Deciding to surprise her with RAW in Nashville and SmackDown in Chattanooga for their respective televised shows, Dave arrived a few hours before the show was set to begin. When he was told that Cheryl and Edge were off practicing, he still wasn't prepared for what he saw…or heard.

"D-Dave, wh-what are you doing here?"

"Surprise," he sarcastically replied, very aware that she had started stuttering.

"Dude, we were just practicing," Edge interjected. "You know that."

Dave didn't doubt that that's how it started. But to see his wife in a passionate embrace with an ex-boyfriend and then her comment implying that the two would have continued dating if he had kissed her that way then was too much. Dave threw her comment back at her and stalked off.

Cheryl followed him and finally caught up. "Don't be such a baby," she ordered. "Edge and I are friends and that's it. I was joking with him."

"I'm sorry," he suddenly replied, his shoulders dropping. "I flew off the handle for no reason." He had had to come on to several divas before and Cheryl never once complained. He was going to have to keep his jealousy in check.

But that promise flew out the window. The rumors were flying around RAW and coming to SmackDown about Cheryl cheating on him with Edge, that they were flaunting it backstage. Rumors were just that, he told himself. But then she didn't come home for two weeks. "It's just not worth the flight from California and Oregon," she explained. RAW was on the West coast and she'd barely have time to unpack, do laundry, and repack.

Before he could stop himself, he asked, "Is Edge staying too?"

"Of course he is. Atlanta isn't much closer than—" She suddenly realized the implication of his question. "Dave, geez, you're not implying that we're having an affair?"

"It seems that you're always with him after every show and I hear you _practice _a lot."

"Oh, grow up! Yes, I'm out every night but Leila is always there, along with Victoria, John, Sam, Mike—this is useless. You trust me or you don't. Pick one."

It seemed, from that moment on, their relationship started to change. They began arguing over inane things, the least issue provoking a fight. They both started going home less and talking on the phone less. They seemed to just be going through the motions of a relationship, lying to themselves that they still cared.

Cheryl ignored the rumor mill for the most part. A wrestler had to have thick skin to survive in the business. Between the accusations of wrestling sites, the media, and the backstage murmuring, someone in the business who couldn't let it wash over them would shortly be on medication or quit all together. So, when she heard that Dave was being written into a storyline with Rebecca DiPietro and they were being seen together a lot, she let it go in one ear and out the other. After all, weren't those the same rumors about her and Edge? Then she was taken completely by surprise one Friday night watching SmackDown in her hotel room with Edge—Leila was at the arena helping to set up for the houseshow for the next day.

Batista had been flirting with Rebecca on the show simply because he was feuding with Chris Masters and the diva was his girlfriend. A little cat and mouse and a little bit of head games. But Cheryl was prepared for all that. She at least mentioned in passing when she talked to Dave the plans for her character for the week. He hadn't been home that week because he had a couple of appearances to make but they had spoken a few times on the phone. So she gaped at the TV and Edge whistled low as Batista surprised Rebecca, jerking her roughly up against him. The brunette didn't protest as his mouth descended on hers and one hand roamed down her breast, across his waist, and to her thigh to hook her knee and pull her leg up against him.

Cheryl spluttered—that was her kiss, the way he greeted her when he came home from being on the road. Both she and Edge dove for her cellphone, the wrestler trying to stop her, but she was quicker. The blonde kept reaching for the phone while she twisted and turned, managing to press speeddial and start the call. "Let it rest, Cher, cool off and then call," he warned, his body hanging over hers where she was bent over, trying to keep him from reaching the phone. She was about to lose her balance and fall forward. When Dave answered, she had to hold the phone to ear and tried to slither out from under Edge at the same time but both collapsed in a heap. She kicked him in the thigh with her heel and held a finger to her lips, silently telling him to be quiet.

"Dave," she angrily began.

"If this is about Rebecca, don't bother."

"What? You can accuse me of an affair with Edge—" the wrestler in question raised his eyebrows, unaware of the accusation. "—but I can't even question you about why you didn't have the decency to tell me about that kiss?"

"It was added at the last minute," he replied as if it was nothing.

"So the next four days in between where just two inconvenient to call me and tell me?"

"I sorta forgot. I assume it just aired, I was sorta busy," Dave replied, sounding distracted.

"She's not with you now, is she?"

"Don't you dare, Cheryl. Is Edge with _you _now?" he asked, angrily throwing the question back at her.

"Come off it, Dave. Why did you kiss her like that?"

"They wanted heat, they wanted sexy. What else was I supposed to do?"

"Not that!" The redhead was trying not to cry. Edge had managed to disentangle himself and now sat behind her, his legs around her while stroking her hair. He started rubbing her back and she leaned into him. It seemed that Edge was the only one who understood her anymore.

"I think we should talk," Dave replied with a heavy sigh.

"Alright, let's talk," she responded in a tone that said 'now.'

"In person. I don't have a show on Sunday. I'll fly in. Are you still not sharing a room with anyone?"

"No, no roommate this weekend," she answered calmly.

"Tell Edge I said 'hi.' I know he's there."

"Give Rebecca a kiss for me. Oh, wait, you already have." She clapped the phone shut and dissolved into tears.

"It'll be okay," Edge murmured, scooping her up off the floor and laying her on the bed. He curled his body around hers, holding her while she sobbed. She was so angry with her husband that all she could do was cry. When she got angry, she didn't throw things, rant, or rave—she cried. How could he treat her that way? If Dave was willing to talk, then she was going set some things straight. She was not having an affair with Edge and, if he could look her in the eye and say the same thing about Rebecca, then this could all be over and they could go back to the way things were.

Cheryl was so exhausted from the call and from sobbing that she fell asleep still in Edge's arms. When she woke up that morning, he was gone and she thought nothing of it. She didn't see him Saturday outside of the show and he only had a moment to ask her how she was doing.

Late Sunday evening after a delayed flight, Dave was knocking on Cheryl's hotel room door. She had paced for an hour, wondering if he had backed out of coming when he was late. The wrestler dropped his luggage in the small hallway and regarded his wife, who was standing by the bed and hugging her arms to her chest. "When did we get to this point?" he asked.

"Somewhere around where you started accusing me of having an affair," Cheryl answered, wrapping her arms tighter around her.

"Just for a second, look at my side. It seemed—" He stopped when her cell phone rang. It was 'Metallingus' by Alterbridge—Edge's theme music.

"I work with him and we're friends, so don't give me that look," she responded to his glare, reaching for her phone on the bureau.

"Cherrr, I got a prob-blem," Edge said, his voice sounding slurred.

"What's wrong?"

"She broke up with me—yep, just broke up with me," he bluntly stated.

"Are you drunk?"

"Yep, sure as hell. I got to get back to the—the—" he faltered, snapping his fingers to recall what he was trying to say.

"Hotel?"

"Yep. Can you—would you—do you think you could get me?"

"Do you know where you're at?" she asked, figuring the question was futile.

"Hey, dude! Hey!" Edge shouted at someone at the bar. "Where am I?"

Cheryl heard the man respond and she was already pulling out the phone book to find the establishment. "I'll be there in a few minutes. Don't go anywhere and do _not _get in your car. Do you understand me?"

"Yep. Wait riii-iight here. Gotcha."

She ended the call and met Dave's angry eyes. "Leila broke up with him and he's drunk. I need to go get him."

"So he broke up with girlfriend. You're my wife," he replied, his intense eyes focused squarely on hers. She had to turn away.

"He's been with Leila as long as we've been together. He's devastated, so much so he got drunk. I'll be back," she added the last in a placating tone. "Just let me pick him up and get him back to his room."

"Cheryl, this is about us. Do you want our marriage to fail?"

"Who said anything about it failing? We'll talk when I get back."

"You walk out that door and I won't be here when you get back," he adamantly stated, folding his arms across his chest. "Edge is free, so you can just stay with him."

"Grow up. If I leave him there too long, he might try to drive."

"Then call someone else, let them pick him up. Let the bouncer put him in a cab."

"Uh-uh," she replied, shaking her head and fixing him with a glare. "This is about trust. You either trust me to take care of a friend or—"

"That has absolutely nothing to do with it. You stay here and we straighten ourselves out or you can go on and it's over."

Instead of warning lights screaming 'your marriage is over,' she thought, _This'll teach him a lesson. _Cheryl jerked up her keys and purse and marched out the door, slamming it shut behind her.

* * *

To this day, Edge still had no idea that it was his phone call the night that Leila broke up with him that was the catalyst for the Batistas almost permanently splitting up. Despite the fact that everyone knew they almost separated, Cheryl never told Edge. He wasn't at fault and he didn't need the guilt. He also hadn't told the redhead that Leila had left him because of her, thinking the same thing about fault and guilt. His girlfriend knew he had spent the night in the diva's room and she had had enough of doubting him.

Cheryl smiled back at the blonde and leaned across the seat to give him a one-armed hug. They hadn't seen each other much since he and Lita were sent to a struggling ECW to boost ratings several months ago. "Do you have plans for dinner?" she immediately asked, afraid it would slip her mind with all they had to do today.

"No, you wanna get something together?"

"Absolutely. We may be stuck together for the next seven hours but I doubt we'll get a word with each other. I haven't talked to Lita more than two or three times since y'all went over and I don't have to remind you that you haven't called me," she said with a wink.

"That goes both ways," he warned with a smile.

"That was just as much directed at me as you. So what do you think they're serving for brunch?"

TBC…


	8. Derailed

_**Chapter VIII: Derailed**_

Arriving at the arena, the coordinator detailed the day's schedule for the two wrestlers. Edge nodded and stated, "We'll go wherever you point us." The first direction was to the brunch. As they passed the buffet table, Cheryl started picking out pieces of cheese and fruit that no one would know was missing. She was ravenous and suddenly had a craving for cheddar cheese.

In conjunction with the local radio station, WWE had allowed for a contest for four winners to have a meet and greet with Cheryl and Edge for brunch. As the four contest winners were brought in, she hurriedly wiped her hands on a napkin and broadly smiled at the group, who were still receiving last minute instructions. Handshakes, hugs, and pictures…and cheddar cheese. She missed the name of one of the fans because all she could think of was that damn cheddar cheese.

They finally settled with about an hour to go for snacks. Two of the women and one man were avid Edge fans and one man seemed to be a Cherry Leigh fanatic. The two women were either too nervous to eat or didn't want to eat in front of Edge. Who the hell cared? she thought, relishing the taste of watermelon. While Edge was more the center of attention—and rightly so—Cheryl had her fair share of questions, some of which were about Batista. Each time he was brought up, she felt a little guiltier about hiding her pregnancy from him. But when they all chimed in with support for her winning the belt again, she momentarily forgot that concern.

As the group was standing to leave, one of the girls pointed back and forth at the two wrestlers. "So…does this mean anything? The two of you getting back together on the show…or _outside _the show?"

Cheryl nervously laughed. "No, we're just the luck of the draw. It could just as well be…Sam Edwards and Jeff Hardy for instance. I think," she turned towards Edge with a smile, "that you are all stuck with Lita and Edge for some time." _I just won't be around_, she thought.

* * *

No one knew nor really seemed to care how long Cheryl and Edge would be paired together. They weren't as popular as she and Dave had been in Evolution but the two of them worked and Creative was leaving well enough alone. So even when the rumor that Cheryl and Dave were getting a divorce surfaced, nothing changed. The redhead was a very private person and Dave wasn't much less, so they had said nothing to anyone in the business. The charade that everything was fine with their spouse on the other show had continued. However, when Cheryl returned to her hotel room after picking a drunken Edge up and found all trace of Dave gone, she caved.

For a week, she retained a self-righteous attitude but seeing Rebecca and Dave together again on TV, she readily agreed to go out clubbing with the purpose of getting drunk but was in turn caught by Victoria before she could drink herself into a stupor. Halfway inebriated, she blurted out that Dave had left her. Unfortunately, a couple of gossipy diva contestants overheard and a chunk of juicy news like that couldn't be contained, especially when everyone already knew that Rebecca had a thing for Dave—everyone but Cheryl that is, who shied away from the coop of hens in the lockerroom. No one knew who started spreading the divorce rumor and no one ever found out, which was fortunate for those women since Victoria alone—not counting Lita, Sam, or Cheryl herself—would have physically set them straight.

Cheryl vacillated between being depressed and angry. She didn't want to see her marriage fall apart but she sure as hell didn't want to be married to a bastard that insecure, selfish, and not understanding. She called him a few times over the next couple of weeks, getting his voicemail each time. Chickening out, she only ended the call with no message. Afterall, he had left no messages the few times he bothered to call. She was already so upset over the situation, she could barely eat. Her stomach only grew worse with the impending weekend. She and Dave were paired together to promote the release of that year's Wrestlemania DVD. Dave participated in the double main event while she appeared on the show only as Edge's girlfriend ringside.

They arrived separately, having come in on different flights from different cities. Straight away, they were surrounded by people but were congenial towards each other, even putting an arm around each other's waist for pictures of the official DVD release.

They were finally settled at a table for autographs and left alone for a moment. "It seems we're getting a divorce according to everyone else," Dave began as if reporting the weather. "I haven't quite heard that you and Edge have finally started that rumored relationship."

Cheryl bristled at his words, unsure of what he was trying to do by saying this to her. "I could say the same about you and Rebecca."

Dave snorted in reply and opened his mouth to retort but the coordinator had ushered in the first fans. What had started as an exploratory statement turned into a snipe fest. As they could get a dig in, the two bit out every gripe they had with each other—from him leaving dirty clothes lying around and caring more about his plants than her to her messy studio and forgetting to put up the clean dishes out of the dishwasher. When they ran out of mundane gripes, they started on wrestling, which then led to fighting about Edge and Rebecca.

When the last fan was seen out, Cheryl threw down her felt marker and poked her finger in Dave's chest. "I think I want that divorce now. You've convinced me."

"Good, because I want one too. But remember, you asked first."

"Because you talked me into it," she angrily replied.

"I wouldn't have had to if you'd just been a real woman and told the truth," he responded with a glare.

"You…you…"

"Bastard?" he finished with a shrug of his shoulders.

"You said it first," she spouted and turned on her heel, stomping out.

Cheryl immediately stripped off her dress, which smelled like Dave's cologne. She hurriedly showered, scrubbing hard where she could still smell him on her. Then the debate raged, drink herself stupid or call Nidia to cry about it. Fingering the miniature whisky bottle in the mini-bar at three o'clock in the afternoon, her cell phone rang—it was a traditional Greek folk tune, indicating it was one of her in-laws. Would Dave have already called Don or Iris, inciting one of them to call her about their argument? At first, she considered not answering it but what if something was wrong? Then they would have called Dave and not her. Curiosity got the best of her and she answered on the last ring.

"Cheryl, I'm so glad I caught you," Iris Batista said, her voice sounding as if she had been crying. "Dave's not answering his phone. Is he not with you?"

"Actually, no but I know where he is," she lied, not wanting to upset the woman more.

"Cheryl, honey, I need you to find him and y'all need to come home." Iris paused and Cheryl stopped breathing. Something was terribly wrong. "Don had a heart attack and they're doing emergency bypass surgery."

"Oh, Iris…" Her mother-in-law sounded as if she was about to start crying again but a loud sniffle contained it. "We'll be there as soon as possible," the redhead assured.

"He just went into surgery and it'll last at least eight hours."

"Dee's there with you?"

"Yeah."

"Good. I'll call you when I know what our flight is." Cheryl didn't even consider not going; the thought never entered her mind. She took a chance and dialed Dave's cell phone as she headed out the door. No answer, no surprise. They were still booked in the same hotel room any time they were at the same event but Dave had been taking it upon himself to book another room. All it took was knowing the phony name he used and his credit card number. Within minutes, the diva was knocking on a fifth floor room.

"It's me, Cheryl," she called, not waiting for him to ask.

"Go away and let me drink in peace," he growled from somewhere in the room.

She would have preferred to tell him face to face in private but that didn't seem possible. "Your father had a heart attack. We have to go home."

The door flew open and he glared down at her. "You better not be lying to get me to open the door."

"I wish I was but it's true, Dave. You would know if you answered your phone. Your mom's been calling."

He paused and then went to his luggage, sorting through clothes before finding his phone. He pressed several buttons and then cursed. "Stupid phone," he mumbled.

Cheryl had shut the door behind her before she explained all of Iris' call. "I can book the flight and you can pack or vice versa." He nodded and she dialed their agent, all the while handing Dave items to shove in his suitcase. Before even one flight was found, they were heading to her room. He paused over her case for a moment but then began piling her belongings in and pressing down until the luggage zipped.

Finally, the redhead clapped the phone shut and announced, "If we can get to the airport and checked in in forty-five minutes, we'll be on a plane a half hour after that." Dave nodded in response and with one handle in each hand, he started out of the room, leaving her to grab her purse and follow.

The doctors were a little over half way through the surgery when they arrived at the hospital and Iris had just gotten off the phone with one of the attending nurses informing the family of the progress. Cheryl had never felt like an outsider in the Batista family but the words she had flung at Dave earlier suddenly made her feel as though she didn't belong. She immediately asked if Dee and Iris had had anything to eat and when they answered in the negative, she was out the door before they could protest. By the time they had finished the take-out meal, they had received the next two hour update. The surgery was going as expected and the doctors were right on schedule.

As the Batista family fell silent, each in their own thoughts, Cheryl stared at the white, sterile wall. Hospitals were much less of a threat to her now. Between Dave's surgeries and her own bout with a mild concussion, the room no longer closed in on her. Still, that didn't stop the anxiety she felt not only for those with her but also because she loved Don as well. Unconsciously, as if it was second nature, she raised her hand from her lap to reach for Dave's but he was already reaching for hers. Their fingers entwined and neither said a word for the last quarter of the operation.

When Don was finally safely ensconced in an ICU room and the family having visited for the few minutes allowed, Iris took the first watch; she wouldn't leave despite anyone's arguments. Even though they wouldn't be allowed to see Don again until the morning, she wanted to be there in case something happened. Dave reluctantly left and they collected their luggage from the coat check and caught a cab home.

They went about getting ready for bed independently, Dave using the guest bathroom and she the master bath, but the two still found themselves opposite of each other in the bedroom at the same time. Cheryl paused to gaze at him as the muscles rippled in his back as he pulled on a t-shirt. That was when she noticed the ink on his forearm.

"What's that?" she asked, coming across the room and reaching for his arm.

At first he drew back but then held his arm out where she could see her first and middle name in a dark green Irish script, honoring her ancestry. Her eyes opened wide and she looked up at him. "It was supposed to be a present for you for our first anniversary," he quietly said.

Their wedding anniversary was over a month ago, both of them in different states—how could she miss a tattoo over half a foot long and two inches high? She hadn't watched him on television and all she could recall was him wearing dress shirts and suit jackets. The tears were starting to well up in here eyes but she squeezed them shut to stop from crying. Cheryl dropped his wrist from where she had been holding it to inspect the tattoo, stepping away from him. "I—I…" She didn't know what to say and the first thing that popped in her head came out of her mouth, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I never slept with Edge. I never even considered it."

"I didn't sleep with Rebecca and not for the lack of her trying," Dave replied, his eyes meeting hers when she finally looked up at him.

"I believe you," she whispered.

"Me, too."

They stood there for a moment and then she continued, "I'm sorry. I said a lot of things and did a lot of stuff I wish I could take back. I understand if you still want a divorce. I won't—"

He shushed her, closing the distance between them. "Stop," he said, placing his fingers over her lips.

"But—"

"Stop," he ordered. "It's my turn." She nodded and he dropped his hand. "I'm sorry. I reacted like I did only because I love you. I don't want a divorce."

"I don't either," she replied. "I love you. I don't know how all this happened but let's keep it from happening again."

"It's behind us. From this moment on, it's over and never coming back." She nodded and he gave her a small smile.

It was as if the barriers around them fell and she locked her arms around his neck as his mouth descended on hers. Her knees grew weak and she leaned into him. He pulled away to kiss her cheek and temple and then held her tight. She laid her head on his shoulder, willing him to never let go. To be this close was all she needed, was all she yearned for since they began fighting. But there was more that she wanted, she wanted to be one with her husband again.

That night, she fell in love with her husband all over again and then some. The next week, she surprised Dave with a present of her own, his full name in miniscule cursive script around her ring finger to serve as a permanent wedding band.

* * *

"Look at this, Edge," Cheryl said with a laugh, showing him the magazine page one of the fans had presented her to autograph. "'Wrestling's New Power Couple'," she read from the article that was five years old. "Haven't seen anything like this in a while."

"Look at the two of you. So green and stupid," he joked.

"Yep," she nodded and signed her name with a small greeting. "Thanks, Rick," she said, as the fan came around the side of the table to take a picture with her.

She and Dave had come so far, careerwise and in their relationship. Their lives were about to finally be back on track, traveling together again, sleeping in each other's bed more than twice a week. The irony of having to watch themselves drift apart their first year of marriage and then fight so hard the next for a renewed relationship while apart was not lost on her with them being paired together again in WWE and her tenure there probably ending.

TBC…


	9. Persuasion & Resolution Become Unforgive

**Author's Notes: **Quick refresher. I do not own Samantha Edwards, Mike Summers, or Allison Crest. They have graciously been loaned to me by WandaXmaximoff. Sam and Mike are best friends and Mike and Allison, McMahon's PA, are dating.

One more comment. I fabricated 'Cherry Leigh' years ago and only put her into writing about seven months before WWE signed and created the character of Cherry who manages Deuce and Domino (should I sue? ). I am very aware that that is not her real name but I thought the explanation below might add a little spice to the storyline as to why this Cherry exists when RAW already has a Cherry in Cheryl Leigh-Batista.

_**Chapter IX: Persuasion and Resolution Become Unforgiven**_

It was one thing facing Edge while being able to hold back the truth about her pregnancy. The day they had spent together gave no indication of the situation. This day was another problem all together when having to face five other people, one her husband and the other four close friends. It was the morning of the pay-per-view and Cheryl was feeling ridiculously sick again. She had to leave to pick up Dave at the airport in a few minutes and then they would be meeting Mike and Allison, along with John and Sam, for lunch. The redhead wasn't sure she was going to be able to make it through the meal.

There was no backing out of Unforgiven; she had already made up her mind. Figuring out how to tell Sam and convince her to go through with the match was going to be tougher than the match itself. Without Nidia employed by the WWE anymore and with Lita bouncing between SmackDown and ECW, Samantha Edwards had become her closest confidante. It was probably wrong of her to ask the diva to do this but, out of all the women, she was the one Cheryl knew she could trust most.

* * *

Cheryl hadn't really done the best of jobs with the blonde in being her mentor because of her failing marriage. With the problems sorted with Dave, the veteran wrestler sat Sam down and apologized to her. The younger diva simply waved her off, acting as if it was nothing. The redhead was sure Sam knew about all that had happened but was grateful when she didn't pressure her into talking about it.

The two women, shortly thereafter, started an angle with each other. Mike Summers began feuding with Edge and their respective girlfriends got involved. The girls hung out more, working on their moves or lines together. It was during this time that Mike became good friends with Dave and Cheryl. The two divas found they were compatible in more ways than just in the ring and, despite having been paired in a mentor relationship for a year, they now became close.

Sam and Cheryl found themselves sharing lunch and sometimes a car between shows. They could always be found sitting together in the lockerroom, discussing their scripts and laughing over whatever Creative was putting them through. They had even hairsprayed each other's butts to hold bikinis in place and picked feathers out of each other's hair after on-air pillow fights.

While Cheryl's marriage was mending, so was her character. Cherry Leigh was starting to mellow out. She had lost the cherry overdrive when her character was attached to Edge but she was also subsumed under his identity, like she was a female version of him. Now she was beginning to come out of his shadow. Part of it was that she was taking a little liberty with her character, reintroducing who she was when she first came into the company. Creative didn't seem to mind and she didn't point it out to them. She suspected that part of the reason was because they wanted to push her for the women's belt again.

Sam acted as if it was the best thing that ever happened when Cheryl announced that she would be winning the championship for the third time but the redhead got the sense that the other woman was a bit upset being passed over again. The veteran diva didn't blame her because Sam deserved a run, even if Sam verbally insisted that she wasn't worthy.

It wasn't long before Cheryl was putting a good word in for the younger woman. Triple H and Stephanie had managed to get away for a dinner during an interbrand pay-per-view weekend and the Batistas had joined them. Stephanie was warming up to her, as it was about time given the length of her and Dave's relationship. Hunter listened intently as Cheryl built Samantha Edwards up. If he seemed to be keen on the diva, then maybe Stephanie would become so as well.

Winning the belt was a little disappointing as the match was a short one only on RAW rather than a pay-per-view. Candice was playing the heel and she had pissed Cherry off to the extent that the redhead rushed in and leveled her in a matter of minutes, just as she promised.

Unfortunately, it would only be a few short months later that Cheryl would lose the belt back to her in an unplanned moment in the ring. Cherry Leigh was more of a brawler and little of her ringwork was high-flying or off the top rope. One of her staples was to jump off the second rope and land with an axe handle to her opponent. Somehow she hit the mat wrong and her ankle popped. She knew immediately what had happened as pain spread throughout her foot and leg. It was the same pop and feel as when she broke the same ankle only a few months into her training. Rationalizing that it only hurt worse than what it was, she immediately rose but collapsed under her own weight.

Candice was still rolling on the canvas as if she was hurt from the axe handle. Seeing Cheryl's white face, the ref didn't have to ask but still questioned her ability to continue the match. He raised his arms in an X to signal the trainers and was about to simply call a DQ when it was all changed on the spur of the moment. Instead of just ending the match, Vince issued orders through the ref's earpiece. Acting as if he was checking on Candice, the news was relayed to her and the dark-haired diva dragged the other woman to middle of the ring. She gloated for a moment while Cheryl lay there, clutching her knee to keep her foot from touching anything and shooting pain throughout the ankle. Then Candice covered her for the pin and the trainers were in the ring before the other diva was handed the belt.

Thankfully it was a clean break and Cheryl was only out for a few months. Her willingness to continue in the ring, even if it was just to be dragged to the middle and pinned, garnered her much respect. Instead of returning to Edge's side, they were no longer associated, as if they had never been together to begin with. She returned simply as Cherry Leigh and, within weeks, took her belt back from Candice. Finally, the women's division was getting attention in their own right, even if too many of the women were diva contestants who had only trained for a short while. The redhead proudly led the pack as the oldest diva with the most experience currently on RAW.

Cheryl could have gone on this way forever, even if she wasn't the women's champion. It was a pleasure to enter into a real feud this time with Sam, who turned on her 'boyfriend' Mike and became John Cena's lover onscreen, pushing the two into a real romance as well. Little did the redhead know that she was set to lose the belt to Sam a couple of months before it was to happen. Creative had every intention of getting Sam over by taking the championship off Cherry and putting it on the blonde. When Batista secretly approached management to ask off time for him and Cheryl for their second anniversary, Creative chose this as an occasion for the switch. The redhead was excited to take a long vacation with her husband, a second honeymoon of sorts to make up for them missing their first wedding anniversary altogether, and Samantha more than deserved the opportunity to hold the belt.

What she couldn't abide by was the news Dusty Rhodes delivered right before the couple left for vacation. "To keep you from being blind-sided, I wanted to let you know that you're going to be placed in an interbrand feud with Deuce and Domino's valet, Cherry," he explained.

"Pardon?" Oh, she knew about Cherry down in OVW. The excuse for her name was that it was indeed her real name. But Cheryl wasn't too worried. Creative would bring her up under another persona and all would be well.

"We're bringing up the tag-team next week and we really can't have two divas with the name Cherry."

"Then change hers," Cheryl matter-of-factly replied.

"Well, it is her real name," Rhodes rationalized.

"This sorta is _my _real name."

"We're gonna have you lose the name to her and you'll go by 'Cheryl' from here on out. That's one of the reasons we want to keep it on her. She needs to get over in a big way and you're one of our most respected divas. You'll easily put her over."

The redhead couldn't hold back from giving him a piece of her mind. He listened to her tirade patiently and then she finally was spent. Realizing she had just chewed out one of the most important men in the company, she profusely began to apologize. Dusty, being the person he was, understood as he had dealt with men bigger and much pettier than Cheryl was being.

That was when she began to feel sick over being so upset. How could they take away her name? And then put it on a _younger_ woman? It was so unfair. She had been "Cherry Leigh" for ten years. She owned the name, for crying out loud. After calling the appropriate people and casually asking about it, she learned from the copyright division that she owned "Cherry Leigh" as an entity rather than "Cherry." Oh, they were sneaky little bastards. She had two options. She could accept the angle and move on. Or she could legally fight it, which would only cause trouble for herself and her husband.

But maybe the feud would never happen now. After coming back from vacation, they learned that things had dramatically changed in four weeks. Evolution was being resurrected and Cheryl would be part of the re-formation. Evolution was to be taking on a new stable, one that would be formed over the coming weeks with Sam and Cena at its head. To solidify the start of the feud, not only were they going to attack Cena but Cheryl was going to take back the women's championship from Sam.

No word was said about whether or not she and the younger Cherry would be duking it out over the appellation and the redhead had no intention of reminding them. However, she did notice that all of the scripts she had received so far had used 'Cheryl' for her name. It would be easy to persuade Lilian into announcing her character's name for the last time at Unforgiven.

* * *

With only a few hours to go before the start of the pay-per-view, Cheryl nervously sat on the wooden bench, praying her stomach would settle. Lunch was almost disaster when Allison Crest called her on why she was picking at her food and not eating. She blamed it on nerves and Mike's girlfriend seemed to have bought the excuse. Dave expressed concern but she muttered the same excuses as earlier in the week. But she could hide the news from Sam no longer. If they were going to get any practice in and re-script the match, she was going to have to tell her now.

The second the diva in question returned to the lockerroom, Cheryl swallowed hard and caught the other woman's attention. "Sam," said the older diva tentatively, as she rose from her seat and began pacing. "There's something I've got to tell you, but you've got to promise not to say a word to anyone else, especially Dave. At least not yet, anyway."

Sam could tell by the way her friend was wearing a hole in the floor and how her hands kept flitting from her pockets to her hair that something wasn't exactly right.

"What's going on?" Sam asked, settling on the wooden bench in front of the pacing woman.

"I have news," the redhead tentatively began and then stopped to face Sam. "I'm pregnant."

The younger diva's eyes widened and then she grinned before grabbing Cheryl into a hug. She squealed and began jumping up and down. Cheryl couldn't resist—it really was an occasion to rejoice. She found herself bouncing and smiling broadly. Sam pulled back, holding the redhead at arm's length. "This is so exciting. What did Dave say?"

"Well, I haven't told him. That's why you can't say anything"

"What?" Sam began but then gasped. "Oh, no, what about tonight?"

"That's what I wanted to talk about. I think we can do it."

"No, uh-uh."

"Listen, really. We'll just have to rework the match. I won't take any bumps. I'll tuck and roll and do cradles," Cheryl excitedly said, pulling her arms in by way of demonstration. "I can fake it."

"I…"

"This will mean so much to me. I want to go out on top."

"Alright," Sam replied with a sigh.

"I have one more favor. I want to change the end of the match."

Sam looked at Cheryl warily but then nodded for her to explain, sitting back down on the bench. When the veteran diva finished, the blonde shook her head. "Brian will kill us and then Vince will get the Undertaker to resurrect us just so _he _can kill us." Brian Gerwitz was definitely not going to be happy about it, especially since this angle was his first major one since replacing Dusty Rhodes in the past month.

"I will take full responsibility. If they ask you about it, claim I suddenly changed things up on you and you went with it rather than screwing up the match. What are they gonna do? Job me out so I lose the belt to someone like Kelly?"

"You've got a point. Alright, I'll do it," Sam replied, the corners of her eyes crinkling in a smile. Cheryl could tell that it was bothering her to change up the ending of the match without prior permission but she was Dave Batista's wife and her character was kin to Triple H. She could get away with it, although she might be in more hot water than she could get out of but it would be worth it. "Now, back up," the blonde continued, rolling her hands back toward herself, "What's this about not telling Dave and about going out on top?"

"There is no way in hell Dave would let me go through with this match and—"

"_I'm_ barely letting you go through with this match."

"This is it, Sam. I'm not getting back into a ring to wrestle again. I don't know what kind of deal I can work out yet with WWE but I'm retiring."

"But you can't," the younger diva protested. "You're—you're—"

"A decade older than you. You do realize that, don't you? I got into the business way too late to get married and have kids."

"It explains everything, why you've been so sick and that little dreamy look on your face all day. You know the due date?"

The redhead shook her head. "I just found out Wednesday. I've got an appointment next week but I'm thinking some time in early April maybe."

"We'll have to have a baby shower!" Sam excitedly said. "Oh, I know what would make the cutest party fav—" The blonde immediately shut up as the door to the lockerroom opened and Victoria entered. "Love that lipstick!" she exclaimed to the black-haired beauty to cover up quickly for the guilty look on Cheryl's face.

The redhead sighed with relief that Samantha hadn't given anything away. But now, it was time to practice the changes to the match. She was actually going to go through with this and it seemed that it really would work after all.

TBC…


	10. Changing Things Up a Bit

_**Chapter X: Changing Things Up a Bit**_

Cheryl flexed her knee again to test the wrap that bound it. The trainers had offered a shot to help with the pain but she turned it down, insisting that the bandage would do the trick. It wasn't hurting enough to need more than the brace and a pain pill. She asked, if under perfect circumstances, what their recommendation would be for her knee. After twisting it around in what felt like a hundred different directions, RAW's doctor suggested a couple weeks' break from any physical activity beyond walking and everything should be good as new. It only seemed to be a minor strain. If it still hurt after that time, then she would want to have an MRI done. After tonight, she could guarantee herself two weeks off. The rest of the pain pills were going to be disposed of once she could get away from Dave.

"You gonna be fine?" Sam asked, eyeing Cheryl carefully.

"Absolutely," she replied, bouncing up and down on her toes. "I'm not even sick at my stomach." Since Sam had agreed to go through with the match and now they were comfortable with the changes, Cheryl's anxiety had dramatically decreased. After a few more saltine crackers, the queasiness was gone. She felt good and knew she looked good.

The color was back in her face. Because she was a redhead and covered in freckles, her skin was already light. Despite a bit of a tan from the vacation, anxiety and morning sickness had drained her to where she was pale most of the time. The color of her outfit helped somewhat as well. Suspecting this as her last match, she wanted to wear something special and had spent an afternoon rifling through all of her wrestling attire. In the back of the closet, still in its protective plastic, was an outfit she had worn once. It was one from a few years back but wardrobe had made it a size too small and she could barely squeeze into it for that night. She had slimmed down a bit since dating Dave, who had helped her change her exercise routine and diet for a more toned look. Excitedly slipping into the outfit, she had found that it fit perfectly now.

Dave hadn't been able to take his eyes off her the moment she stepped out of the lockerroom. Maybe the attire had a life outside of wrestling. The top was a wine red satin corset with wide black satin ribbons as shoulder straps and that laced down the back and tied in a bow. The black crushed velvet pants were fitted down to the knees and flared gently. Wine red satin ribbons criss-crossed up the sides of the legs to her hips, leaving peeks of skin all the way down to her black patent leather boots.

With a smile, the redhead stepped up to the curtain as her music thundered through the sound system. As the challenger, she was up first. The diva stepped out into the red haze to gaze arrogantly at the crowd, sweeping the place with lowered lashes and a provocative pout. With a seductive twist of her shoulders, she strutted to the ring to position herself in the middle, turning in a slow circle with outstretched arms to invite attention. For Sam's entrance, she propped herself up by an elbow in one corner of the ring to wait, casually inspecting her nails. When the lights finally came up full force, the referee made the pretension of reminding them about the rules of the match. Cheryl never took her eyes off Sam.

As it was a diva match, they weren't allotted much time. It was unfortunately a standard and predictable match. Sam would get in a few shots before Cheryl would dominate, only to go down at her opponent's hands, and then fight back to win. It wasn't going to be easy to rework the match with no hits to the abdomen, lower back, or slamming onto the mat.

Sam feinted by charging left but then drawing up short to catch Cheryl with a right hook followed by a vicious bitch slap, both of which left the redhead reeling. The blonde tossed her into the ropes but Cherry used the momentum to bounce off into a baseball slide. The match now turned in favor of the veteran diva.

With Cheryl's character turning heel and Sam's going face, the veteran diva was expected to cheat but she couldn't bring herself to do so. Sam slithered out of her holds but it was a facebreaker in tribute to her 'brother' that finally broke the woman down. To set up the ending, the Cherry Bomb was going to have to come in the middle of the match. With the blonde worn out, Cherry hefted Sam up and performed the electric chair bomb. The crowd went wild, believing the former champion had literally wiped the mat with her opponent.

Seeming like a last ditch effort, Sam jerked the other diva's ankles and Cherry staggered into the turnbuckle, dazing her as she rolled to the mat. Both women lay there, chests heaving from exertion.

* * *

"What is she doing?" Brian Gerwitz suddenly asked, stealing a glance at Dave Batista before staring back at the monitor. "That's the finish."

Dave shook his head in response, watching his wife's match. She had executed the Cherry Bomb way too soon. Something was wrong. It had to be her knee. Did she blow her knee out? He stood from his chair, waiting for the referee to signal for the medics. But Cheryl never pinned Sam nor did the other diva try for the three count. Chad Patton checked on both divas but then simply stepped back and began to count them out. It only took to his shout of 'three' for Sam to rise and drag Cheryl to her feet.

"I'll kill them," Brian muttered as the blonde diva flipped the other woman over her shoulder.

Even Triple H was now intently watching Sam work Cheryl. He knew the Cherry Bomb was too early but she had to yet to use the Cherry Stem. He knew Dave was concerned as he had risen from this chair and now had his arms folded over his chest. Whatever the two women were doing, Hunter was impressed with Sam's work as she walked the line in the transition between heel and face.

When it looked like Cena's girlfriend was going to win, although those gathered around the monitor knew better, Cheryl tripped Sam up with a drop toe hold. The fans were on their feet—it was the beginning of the Cherry Stem. The blonde hit the canvas hard and Cherry was instantly up. The two of them found that if they rushed the move, it came off much smoother. The redhead shoved the Champion's head between her knees before she could stand up straight and, in the blink of an eye, she rolled her up to her shoulders and threw the blonde into the mat, falling backward into the ropes. The powerbomb came off exactly as they had hoped and the entire place was on their feet.

"What the hell?" Brian Gerwitz angrily asked, rising to his feet. Dave and Hunter turned to each other, eyes wide. Both then stared at the monitor as Cherry applied the other half of the Cherry Stem, the facelock, with Sam feebly tapping out. "I don't believe they did that! I don't fu—Dave, did you know about this? What did your wife just do?"

"Dude," he replied, holding out his hands and shrugging before heading up to the gorilla position where Vince and Stephanie McMahon didn't look very happy either.

* * *

Cheryl let the reverberations of the entrance music sound through her body as she released Samantha. She scooted across the mat, her knees bent in front of her and her arms draped across them. She hung her head for a moment and then rose as Patton grasped her arm. She couldn't help but grin broadly as he raised her hand in victory and handed her the Women's Championship belt.

She didn't even hear the 'boos,' only the cheers as she accepted the gold. She held it high above her head, skipping to one of the corners to climb the turnbuckle. Patton gave her the warning to hurry up the celebration and she dashed into the other three, soaking up the adoration of her fans. She pointed at one boy who held a sign proclaiming her number one and then slipped out of the ring. The redheaded diva sprinted around the ring, slapping hands before running up the ramp. She held the belt above her head one more time, blew the fans a kiss, and then pushed the black curtain aside.

Sam bowled her over with a hug, squashing the belt between them. "We did it," she whispered and finally released her mentor.

"I'm not asking," Dave said, embracing her and then twirling her around. "But I can't wait to see you in that belt."

"Well, Cheryl, Sam," Vince McMahon stated in his deep voice, interrupting their celebration. "I can't lie and say that wasn't impressive. I would say I'm proud of my divas and my new women's champion but both of you know good and well that wasn't scripted."

"What the hell was that about?" Brian Gerwitz cut in.

"I-I, well, it just happened," Cheryl stammered. "I lost myself out th-there and did the-the Cherry Bomb too soon. It-it was the b-best cover—"

"And since it was so impressive, it meant that you've been practicing it," Vince interrupted.

"Yes, sir," Samantha suddenly replied. "We've been practicing it because we had hoped if we demonstrated we could indeed perform the move, then we could use it in a later match."

"It was all me," Cheryl hurriedly added, proud of the way Sam covered for them.

"We've got a pay-per-view to finish, so I'll be speaking with you tomorrow, Miss Leigh."

The group at the top of the metal steps took that as a dismissal and hurried down them.They gathered around the bottom, discussing their match and the upcoming WWE Championship bout until Triple H arrived.

"Great work out there tonight, ladies," Hunter complimented.

"Thanks," Sam meekly replied but Cheryl remained silent. If she replied, she might have gotten choked up. Her decision to retire wasn't going to affect just herself and Dave, evidenced by Sam's objection to her announcement she would be leaving. She couldn't imagine never working with her 'half-brother' again.

"Are you okay, Cheryl?" Hunter asked. "For someone who's just won the Women's Championship, you don't look too happy."

"Yeah, I'm fine," lied Cheryl. "Just tired is all."

"Well, you'll have to save some energy for later, we've got to go out and celebrate the re-formation of Evolution."

"Uh...y-yeah, I guess we will," replied the redhead. Having to fake all being well and contain her news during a night out was the last thing on her mind. She really just wanted a long, hot bath and a massage from her husband before a good night's rest.

"She'll be there," Sam covered, realizing that Cheryl not showing up would cause too many awkward questions. "Even if I have to drag her there myself."

The redhead nervously laughed but Triple H was already responding. "Great. Then I'll see all of you in the hotel lobby around eleven." He turned to Batista and Cena to indicate he expected them there as well and both men nodded in return.

She was too exhausted to do this but Cheryl put on a smile throughout the main event, which would lead to a win for Cena over Triple H when Flair and Orton interfered but also allow for Batista to become ambiguously involved in the end of the match. The reunion of Evolution, including Cheryl, tomorrow night would be so bittersweet.

With the same smile plastered on her face, she lied to her husband that she was feeling great and really did want to go out with their friends. He didn't buy it and she got that feeling but he left it alone. It was when they were dropping their gear off at the hotel that she realized again she couldn't drink alcohol tonight but had no excuse. It was customary for the newly crowned champions to be bought several rounds of drinks. She could just say it was her medication—she couldn't drink because it would interfere with the drugs. But then speculation would start to fly that she was on painkillers or addicted to illegal drugs. It wouldn't do for management to even hear speculation on that. But at this moment, that was the best excuse she had unless she wanted to tell everyone about her pregnancy that night.

When Hunter announced that he was going to place an order of champagne, Cheryl started to protest but caught Sam glancing at her. With a worried look, she leaned in close to the blonde, "I can't drink champagne. But people are going to ask questions if I don't."

Sam replied, "Don't worry. We'll come up with something." Then she got that look in her eyes like a light bulb went off. "How about I have your drinks too when no one is looking? That way they think you've drank them and you can sneak to the bar and get something virgin."

"I guess that would work," the redhead responded, beginning to chew her lip. "But you can't drink everything bought for me tonight and your own drinks too. You'll be wasted by the end of the night."

"I'll be fine. I can hold my alcohol," Sam boasted and then shrugged, "Besides, how many drinks can everyone buy you in one night?"

Cheryl was about to reply, "More than you would believe," but Dave was leaning in to tease her ear with a nip. "What was that about?" she whispered.

"Because you are just that beautiful," he replied, running a finger down her jaw. She blushed and snuggled closer to him as he wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders.

When the champagne arrived, she set it on the table in front of them and excused herself to the restroom. She brought back a virgin Dacquiri and claimed that Mike had bought it for her. Within the hour, however, it was becoming a little bit of a difficult task for Sam. It seemed that winning the belt for a _fifth _time invited celebratory drinks from what felt like everyone. It was easy for Sam to take the shots but they went straight into her system.

"Oh man, I'm going to be hung over in the morning," moaned Sam, as she rested her head on Cheryl's shoulder.

"It'll be okay now, chick," whispered the redhead, stroking the other woman's hair gratefully. "I think _everyone_ in the whole company has brought me a drink. There can't be any more."

"I wouldn't count on it," sighed the blonde, lifting her head to see Edge approaching them. "Look what he's holding."

Cheryl followed Sam's gaze and indeed the Canadian wrestler was heading in their direction, his eyes on the two of them while carrying three shots of tequila.

"One for the five-time women's champion and one as consolation to the beautiful former champion," he said, nudging them in each of the girls' direction. "And one for me because I have the luck of drinking with both of them. So, drink up, ladies," he added with a grin.

Cheryl flashed a grateful smile at him and stated, "Honestly, Edge, I think I've reached my limit for tonight." She couldn't even begin to imagine how Sam would handle two shots after all the alcohol she had already consumed. She was going to owe her friend more than she could manage.

"You've gotta drink this one though, Cher," the blonde wrestler insisted. "It's only fitting for a champion to drink it, especially at this price."

"Alright then, but it will have to be my last," she conceded, her mind frantically searching for how she and Sam would handle this in front of Edge. She raised the glass to her lips and her mouth began to water at the smell of the tequila. Would it hurt to have just one shot? She could already taste it.

"To Champions," the Canadian toasted and tossed the shot back.

"Wait, I have a better toast," she interrupted, the glass still hovering below her lips. "To love," she said, motioning to where Carlito was slow dancing with a stunning Latina.

Every one around them turned to see what she was pointing at, even Sam. The men stayed focused on the curvaceous black-haired woman, giving the two women just enough time to pull off the switch. "Quick, while no one is looking," Cheryl whispered.

Sam threw her head back and slurped down the first shot and quickly followed with the second. She shivered, held a hand to her head, and then groaned. Maybe she couldn't hold her alcohol like she thought.

Cheryl was beginning to worry about her now. Instead of let the woman attempt to help her anymore, she informed Sam, "If anyone buys me anymore, I'll just chuck them in a plant or something."

"Yeah, I think you'd better," she moaned and then muttered an excuse that Cheryl didn't quite hear as she rose and hurried off to the restroom. Now the redhead was feeling even worse for allowing Sam to even think she could do this.

Dave had heard his wife say she had had enough and still down the shot of tequila. Since Sam wasn't looking so good, he figured Cheryl was probably feeling just as bad as it seemed all of their friends insisted on buying the redhead drinks. As her eyes drooped, he leaned in and brushed her curls from her ear. "You wanna go back to the hotel?"

"Only if you want, baby," she replied with a small smile and rubbed a hand over this thigh.

"Yeah, let's go on," he said.

Cheryl nodded and then turned to John, who was sitting on the same couch and waiting for Sam to return. "Tell Sam we've already left and I'll talk to her tomorrow. Here's her purse," she explained, patting the leather handbag.

"I think I should probably send someone to check on her. She's been gone a while," the Champion stated, appearing worried.

"I'll do it."

"No, you go on. I'll find Melina and send her. Get back to your room and relax," Cena persuaded.

Cheryl slipped an arm around her husband's waist and he pulled her in close as they threaded their way out of the bar. After a quick shower to rid themselves of the establishment's smell, they both fell into bed exhausted. She snuggled close to Dave, laying her head on his chest. "You okay?" he asked, his fingers playing in her hair.

"Just perfect," she replied, draping an arm across his chest. She would tell him tomorrow and she couldn't wait. She would do it now but it would ruin her plans to cover up her foreknowledge of the pregnancy. Despite his promise to retire, how could he not be excited that they were expecting?

TBC…

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Whopping credit goes to WandaXmaximoff for writing the Triple H-Cheryl-Sam post-match dialogue, for almost all of the dialogue between Cheryl and Sam in the club, and for the beautiful little scene with Edge and the shot of tequila. (Is that everything, Clare?)


	11. Standing at a Crossroads

_**Chapter XI: Standing at a Crossroads**_

Cheryl had been so exhausted that she slept right through breakfast. Dave thought about waking her but decided that, after one of her best matches and that she had probably had too much to drink last night, it was best to leave her alone. Besides, how often did he wake up before her? But after the second time his stomach grumbled, he quickly pulled on a pair of track pants and a t-shirt to try and find somewhere that was still serving breakfast. He scribbled a note and left it on his pillow before quietly letting himself out.

The click of the door closing woke the sleeping diva and she sat straight up in bed, heart pounding when she didn't see her husband. Deciding the coast was clear and that no one had forced their way into the room, she lay back down and then the note caught her eye. She fumbled for her glasses on the nightstand while slipping out of bed. So, he had decided on breakfast, she thought and shuffled around in her suitcase to find an open sleeve of saltine crackers. It seemed that was the only thing that would settle her stomach this weekend but she had kept them hidden so that people wouldn't automatically think she was pregnant.

Dave's absence would make her ruse all the easier. By the time he was back, Cheryl was packed and had dressed for driving a few hours across Texas to RAW's venue in Dallas. When she heard the keycard slide into the lock and the doorknob turn, she assumed her planned position—sitting on the bed with her legs crossed yoga style and her hand limply holding her cell phone. She let her face go still and turned blank eyes on him.

"Baby?" he asked, hurrying to her and sitting on the bed beside her. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she replied, holding out the phone. "I got a call while you were gone."

"From the doctor?" She nodded but he didn't like the way her face was pale or the hesitancy she had in responding. "They know what's making you sick?"

"Yep," she answered with another nod and then slid off the bed to stand. She took a couple steps away, trying to calm herself and remember to breathe. Turning back around, she took a hard swallow, none of this in her plans for suavely breaking the news. "I'm—we're—there's…"

"Spit it out, Cher."

"We're going to-to have a b-baby."

"You're pregnant?" he asked, rising from the bed. With another hard swallow, she nodded. "No joking?"

"Uh-uh," the redhead answered, her eyes searching his for what he was thinking.

"Holy shit," Dave responded and then grabbed her around the waist, picking her up in an embrace and twirling her. He began laughing and she couldn't help but join him. The room was too small for his size and her long legs and he almost stumbled on the bed corner but chose to fall on over, taking her with him, rather than righting himself. He grinned broadly and she returned the smile as he brushed curls from her face. "Wow," he sighed.

"I know," she quietly responded, placing her hand against his cheek.

"Wow," he repeated and brushed his thumb across her temple before moving it to her waist. "So now what?"

"I suppose we should talk to Vince and Stephanie and let them know. They're going to have redo everything with Evolution and John and Sam. Then Wednesday I have a doctor's appointment and I want you to come with me and then we'll take it day by day."

Dave quickly glanced at his watch and then let his hand trail down her waist to the fastener on her pants. "So, we're having a baby," he whispered, his knuckles lightly brushing her stomach where he had undone the button and slid the zipper down. He laughed softly against her hair and nuzzled her neck. She sighed in reply and then reached for the hem of his t-shirt after he dropped her pants at the bottom of the bed.

* * *

Before Dave and Cheryl had left Houston with little time to spare in arriving in Dallas, the diva had called Brian Gerwitz to request a quick meeting. As soon as they arrived at the hotel, they dropped off their luggage and were knocking on his door. Despite the anger in his eyes, he congratulated them but then told them to wait while he called Vince McMahon but he could only get his P.A., Allison Crest, who informed him that the McMahons were en route to the arena.

While the Batistas were packing for a night at RAW, the creative director of the show was on the phone to the entire team, already running ideas through his head of how to deal with this literal bump in the road. Although their presence wasn't required for almost an hour, the couple was searching the venue's halls for their bosses.

"Hey, you two," Triple H greeted, seeing them before they saw him. "Brian said something about you looking for Vince and Steph?"

"Yeah," Dave answered with a nod.

"Everything okay?" Hunter asked, considering two of the top male and female wrestlers of the company were looking for the two most in charge.

"Well…" Dave began and nudged Cheryl with his shoulder, who looked back up at him in annoyance. "You gonna tell him or do I have to? It does make him an uncle of sorts."

"What?" the blonde asked, recognition starting to dawn on him.

"Let's say," Batista began rubbing the stubble on his jaw line, "you and Ric won't be the only ones in Evolution celebrating Father's Day next year."

"Cheryl, really?" he asked, setting his coffee down. The blush rose in her cheeks as she nodded in the affirmative. "Way to go, man," he said to Dave, shaking his hand and clapping his other arm around the man's back. "And you, as if you could get any more beautiful," he added, turning to Cheryl and then hugging her.

"Stop it," she bashfully replied as Hunter released her.

"Stop what?" Stephanie asked, eyeing the television siblings suspiciously. It depended on what mood she was in as to whether or not she personally liked Cheryl. More or less, they had gotten off on the wrong foot and that first impression stayed with her despite the fact Cheryl had never given her any reason to doubt the diva. Business-wise, she couldn't ask for a better employee. Still, she was always wary of women hugging her husband.

The redhead always clammed up around Stephanie and began to stutter. "We're—I'm—uh—"

"Babe," Hunter interrupted, "Cheryl's gonna be a mom."

The Creative head couldn't mask the thoughts that ran through her head. It was obvious that her first concern was with the storylines and the loss of a diva but then she recovered and smiled at the Batistas. "Congratulations," she smoothly replied, extending a hand to both of them. "I suppose it's a good thing that you only have a promo tonight, Cheryl."

"I suppose so. We'll need to—I know I'll have to—my contract—" The diva was so embarrassed that she was stuttering over herself but her tongue wouldn't work.

"That is true," Stephanie replied, holding the file she had in one hand to her chest. "There are a couple of options. You can ask for your release but you know you lose full termination benefits. Do you know when your current contract is up?"

"July, about two months or so after the baby will be born."

"Then there are two other options. You can continue to work for the WWE in a diminished capacity, something behind the scenes maybe until the baby is born and then your contract will be up or, when you can wrestle again, we'll enter negotiations for a new one. Considering you wrestled last night, I assume you found out this morning and haven't given it much thought as to what you'd prefer to do."

"Yeah, uh, yes, ma'am."

"We need to know soon, as in the next couple of days, even if you could, tonight. We need to start making plans to write your character out."

"Why don't you keep her in?" Dave suddenly spoke up. "This wouldn't be the first pregnancy angle. Triple H, the angry, protective brother, and think of the fun you could have with a feud when he finds out."

Stephanie's mind was already in overdrive. "Then that would definitely mean we need to know your decision about your contract soon," she coolly replied. "I should probably tell my father. If you'll excuse me."

"She's all business, pay her no mind," Hunter stated as his wife had disappeared and placed a comforting hand on Cheryl's back.

"Easy for y'all to do," she replied. "You can take Rory along on the road with your fancy bus and jet."

"True. I won't argue with you there but we've got some serious decisions to make when she starts school. But you've got even longer to wait to think about that. Right now, Red, you've got to figure out if you still want to remain as an on-air talent, a backstage lackey, or leave us all together."

"You don't sound too biased," she replied with a joking grin. "I didn't think y'all would let me stay on as a talent."

"Well, it'll be a first," he stated.

"Yeah, I'm sure most women plan for this," Cheryl muttered to herself.

"What?" Both Dave and Hunter asked.

"Nothing. You know what would be fun? To let Dave be the father and the two of you fight it out. Give me a good show for having to be the one going through morning sickness," she snarkily replied, half joking

"You know…" Hunter began and Cheryl could see the ideas flashing in both wrestlers' eyes.

"Oh, good lord," she muttered and took the nearest available seat while the two men debated ideas for her character's fate.

When a light hand descended on her shoulder and soft feminine voice spoke in her ear, Cheryl jerked and realized she had drifted off, lulled into a cat nap by the two men's deep voices. "Hey, Allison," she said to the brunette and then looked down at her watch to see that over an hour and a half had passed since they arrived at the arena.

"I was sent to find Hunter and then you but I found you both at the same time. Lucky me."

"What is it?"

"It seems you've been given a reprieve from last night. Vince said to tell you all major changes are to come through him, Stephanie, or Brian or it could result in a major fine and he'll deal with the other matter at your direction, whatever that means," the personal assistant explained with a shrug.

"I know what it means," she sighed and rubbed her eyes. It was a good thing that she hadn't reapplied her mascara since that morning. The woman didn't step foot out the door without mascara. Her eyelashes were the same color as her hair and gave her eyes the same creepy look as Triple H's. It didn't take a second glance for her to know why his eyes bothered her—his blonde lashes disappeared and made the lids appear bare. Hers looked about the same without make-up. "Babe, isn't it about time we got dressed?" Cheryl asked Dave, slipping a hand into the crook of his arm.

Both men looked down at their watches at the same time and realized how much time had passed. They agreed to meet later and Hunter extended his congratulations once again. Out of the corner of her eye, Cheryl noticed Allison's confusion but they were already late in dressing out and warming-up. The P.A. would find out quickly enough when Samantha had permission to talk about the pregnancy.

And speaking of the devil herself, the blonde diva was already in the make-shift canteen and eyeing the couple coming their way. "When did you tell Sam?" Dave whispered in her ear.

"How do you know?"

"By the look on her face," he replied.

"I called when you went into the convenience store to get me some more crackers."

"So?" Sam asked and Cheryl nodded. The blonde moved so fast next that the older diva didn't stand a chance of stopping her. She popped up on the nearest empty chair and let out a shrill, ear-piercing whistle. Everybody in hospitality turned towards her and, in Cheryl's mindset, it was indeed _everybody _that was now staring at Sam.

"Samantha," the redhead warned but her lips moved without sound.

"I have an announcement to make." She saw the look on her boyfriend's face—one of panic at what she was about to say—and laughed to herself. "Because she won't do it herself, I'm taking it upon myself to do it for her. Cheryl Leigh Batista is going to have a baby!"

The redhead turned the same color as her signature red leather jacket. She suddenly felt like a little kid and buried her face in Dave's shoulder like a child hiding in her mother's skirts at a compliment. He put an arm around her and laughed at the cheers and catcalls.

"Who's the father?" someone shouted and the diva immediately looked up at speaker—John Cena, narrowing her eyes at him.

"You, uh, questioning my manhood?" Dave asked with lifted eyebrows over the wolf whistles.

"Men," Sam scoffed loudly. "Now I know why women choose sperm banks."

The statement elicited a raucous response while the diva slipped down off the chair. The crowd of wrestlers and divas took this to mean the 'announcements' were done and many of them began trailing over to congratulate the Batistas.

Allison was the first to greet them and pulled the couple into a tight embrace. "Congratulations," she cooed. "Now I understand what you and Sam were acting so suspiciously about yesterday."

"Uh...actually it was S-Sam with the p-problem yesterday," lied Cheryl, hoping her husband hadn't noticed the P.A's comment.

"That's right," the blonde instantly jumped in to cover for her friend. "I had some personal issues I wanted Cher's advice about."

Dave was now slapping hands with Cena and the redhead nervously chewed her lip, assuming he hadn't heard Allison or wasn't concerned with the comment.

She had initially thought that, aside from telling Dave, informing their superiors was the hard part and letting everyone else know would be a close second. But it still wasn't over. She now had a decision to make about staying with the company and Dave still hadn't mentioned anything about the same for himself. Until the baby arrived, everything would be downhill.

TBC…


	12. A Logical Explanation

_**Chapter XII: A Logical Explanation**_

This RAW was memorable in many ways. It was the night after Unforgiven, the annual draft was taking place, Evolution was reforming, and lips were buzzing as to what management was going to do with Cheryl Leigh-Batista. If she thought most of the company had bought her a drink last night, then it was the _entire_ company that congratulated her and Dave on their news and many of them made no bones about asking if she was going to be able to remain with the company and what role she would take. When she said she didn't know, she was being honest. At least with Sam, the redhead could share her thoughts on remaining with the WWE.

"What did Stephanie and Vince say?" the blonde asked the moment she got Cheryl alone.

"I didn't talk to Vince. He sent Allison to warn me about changes and threaten me with fines. Steph seemed really put off but you know how she's always aloof with me. She was more worried about storylines than anything else. But she said I could stay on," the veteran diva explained with raised eyebrows, indicating her own surprise at the option.

"Really?"

"Yeah, she said that they can write it into the storylines or I can do some administrative work instead. Hunter's really pushing for the idea of staying on RAW. He's already got this elaborate plan for his character and then Dave being the father on TV," Cheryl explained, rolling her eyes but then seriously added, "_And _if I ask for my release, I lose my benefits."

"You think Creative will go with Hunter's idea?" Sam asked, excited at the prospect of the storyline.

"If he wants it, quite possibly."

"But do you _want_ to stay?" the blonde asked, reaching for Cheryl's hands and searching the other woman's face for an answer. "I thought you wanted to go ahead and retire."

"It's a big decision. I want to talk with Dave about it, get his perspective."

"And you better. Don't make this decision without him but, if you want my opinion, I think you should stay as long as they let you. As long as you're able, why not?" Sam responded with a wink.

"I know but he went ballistic when Stephanie decided that I was gong to the ring tonight for the main event."

"But it's not like you're gonna do anything out there to get hurt," the blonde replied with furrowed brows.

"Try telling Dave that," the redhead scoffed. After Sam had announced to the company that Cheryl was pregnant, Allison sent word that Stephanie was still expecting the diva to be ringside to argue with Sam and for the complete re-formation of Evolution at the end of the main event.

"She's not going out there," Batista had forcefully stated after he barged into the office where Stephanie and Brian Gerwitz were analyzing the show as it aired.

The heiress of the company straightened from where she was bent over the desk writing on a notepad. "Pardon?"

"I'm not letting my pregnant wife go out there when anything can happen with that many jacked up men."

"Present company _excluded_?" she scoffed.

"Dave," Cheryl warned, breathless from chasing after him.

"Hell, no, that's how I know I don't want her out there."

"Baby, you're overreacting," the redhead stated as calm as possible.

"Overreacting?" he asked with raise eyebrows and turned to her. "Overreacting? Protecting my pregnant wife and unborn child is overreacting?"

"If you look at it that way," Stephanie interrupted, "then you might as well not let her climb the stairs or drive a car. She's just as likely to get hurt doing anything else. I took a Stunner from Steve Austin while I was three months pregnant."

Batista bit back his sarcastic reply about the brunette taking chances but he had already pushed his place in the company by confronting the Chairman's daughter. "Fine," he replied, wrapping an arm around Cheryl and steering her out the door.

"Dave, you shouldn't have done that. Nothing is gonna go on out there that would hurt the baby."

"The baby is now our utmost priority," Batista replied, kissing the top of her head. "I would die if anything happened to either of you. There is nothing and I mean _nothing_ worth putting you two in danger."

Cheryl nodded at him, a ball of guilt forming in the pit of her stomach. She still hadn't shaken that feeling by the time she was talking to Sam about the possibility of staying.

"Ouch," the other woman replied with an affected flinch to the diva's story.

Cheryl shrugged. "It's just a phase. You remember my brother, Craig." When the blonde nodded, the older diva continued. "He did the same thing to his wife, Nicole. You met her at the wedding, out to here," she rounded her hand over her stomach, "eight months pregnant. He treated her like hand-blown glass to begin with and then finally realized she wasn't going to break. All guys go through it." _I hope_, she thought.

"Good luck. Call me when you make a decision."

Cheryl wanted to talk to her husband about that decision as soon as possible. Knowing that she had two other options besides asking for a release, her thoughts about retiring immediately had changed. But it wasn't something she wanted to discuss in front of their friends and then Triple H, Flair, and Orton did all but abduct them to take them out to a club. It was the standard fare for every Monday night but she had wanted some alone time with Dave. Even so, the diva didn't stand a chance against the men that were his best friends. If she thought everyone had bought her a drink for winning back the championship, it was nothing compared to how much was sent Dave's way. He was so sloppy drunk by the time they left, she needed Hunter to help her even get him in bed. It was some time at the airport the next morning before he was sober enough to have an intelligent conversation.

Even though his eyes were bloodshot, he had slowed down on drinking coffee and was talking away about which rooms in either of their houses they could turn into the baby's room. "No wrestling themes," he adamantly stated with the slash of his hand. She continually nodded and murmured, 'uh-huh,' looking for a way to change the conversation. When he launched into the idea of a ballerina theme if it was a girl or a dinosaur theme for a boy, Cheryl finally interrupted.

"As much as I want to start discussing baby décor or our children's names—"

"Names! I've already got several."

"Whoa," she interjected, placing her hand over his mouth. It seemed he had moved smoothly from drunk to caffeine high. "There's something a little more important we have to talk about—whether or not I stay with the company."

"Do you want to?"

"Yes," she answered wistfully, recalling how it felt to stand in the ring with the newly re-formed Evolution last night. She had inadvertently ended up between Ric Flair and Dave and she had to stretch tall to raise her clasped hands with theirs. She had her belt in one fist and Dave had wrapped his own hand over hers, helping to keep the strap aloft as they stood in the ring for what felt like forever. It was a beautiful moment. "_But _I'm not having the same fight with you week after week about my role in the storylines."

"Okay, so maybe I overreacted a little," Dave replied with a small shrug.

"A little?" she asked, with raised eyebrows.

"Alright, a lot but—"

"I was safe and you know good and well that every man in that ring last night would do everything in their power to keep it that way." He nodded his agreement and Cheryl continued. "I don't care about benefits, leftover vacation days, blah, blah, blah. There's no reason I can't remain on-air as long as Creative has a part for me."

"If Hunter has anything to do with it, they will, trust me."

"Knowing Hunter, no doubt," the redhead responded with a shake a head. "But I want to quit when this contract is up. If we're gonna have more children, I don't want to come back for only a couple of years, either dragging this one around or leaving him or her in someone's care for five days a week."

"I thought you would."

She opened her mouth to ask him about his promise to quit but changed her mind. "I won't go out losing the belt but I don't want a mockery made of the pregnancy—you know how Creative can get. Look at what they did to Jericho when he asked for his release."

"Then quit. It's not like the no-compete clause is gonna matter."

"So, it's settled? I'll stay through my contract?" He nodded and then she asked, "You think we can prepare with only a few days a week at home? Getting the room ready, making plans, buying everything we'll need…"

"As soon as my mom knows, it'll be all we can do to stop her from doing everything for us," he answered with a chuckle.

They slipped into an easy silence but they were both thinking the same thing—it couldn't have come at a worse time. She was the women's champion, they were both on RAW again, and both in the most popular faction in the past six or seven years, DX notwithstanding. The only addition would be if Dave held the belt. They were riding the prime of their careers—of course, it was the worst time.

"By the way," Cheryl said, interrupting the silence while Dave was still in a good mood, "You were right about my knee."

"Oh, really?" he asked with raised eyebrows. She couldn't help but laugh before she began to explain everything, intentionally leaving out that she had a few pain pills to get through the week and up to the pay-per-view.

* * *

Dave was still treating Cheryl as a fragile flower, insisting on carrying her luggage and the like. She was so grateful for their visit to the doctor, who laid out what she could and shouldn't do with regards to physical activities. In other words, an authority was telling her husband to back off. It didn't really stop him from doing things for her, which was actually quit nice, but at least he quit handling her delicately and wasn't hovering over her during their work-out.

It was only after the doctor's appointment and pinpointing a due date in mid-April that they arranged a dinner at their home to tell Dave's father and stepmother. Even though Deandra, Dave's sister, had two children, they acted as if they couldn't be more elated that they were going to have another grandchild. Cheryl's relationship with her in-laws was so strikingly different than when she was married to Pierce. Iris Jirardi Batista, whom his father had married when Dave was fifteen, welcomed her into the family like a daughter. Donato Batista was a quiet man but he made it abundantly clear that he approved of his son's choice for a wife. While Iris squealed as only a sixty-two year old woman could manage, Don grinned widely and hugged his son to him. Cheryl's parents were next when they would fly into Savannah/Hilton Head airport that coming Tuesday. It was late before Don managed to drag his wife back home—she was already planning the baby shower and suggesting stores for them to register with.

By Thursday morning, neither one of them had unpacked their suitcases to do laundry. When Cheryl realized that, Dave insisted that he'd handle it. The wrestler had the literature that the obstetrician had given them, along with a few books they had picked up at the bookstore on pregnancy, spread out on the couch. He was taking it upon himself to learn everything they needed to know rather than being ignorant or letting Cheryl inform him. His wife didn't feel like arguing with him this time and popped another cracker in her mouth while settling in his place on the couch to start perusing the material.

The suitcases were already in the laundry room and he sorted his own first before unzipping Cheryl's and propping it open on top of the washing machine. Seeing the brightly colored pamphlets in the side pocket, he didn't think much of them and set them aside. But then he realized their content—prenatal care. They hadn't picked these up yesterday and he would know. He had read everything the obstetrician had given them. Maybe she had picked them up sometime Monday or Tuesday. But where?

Starting the wash cycle, Dave suddenly recalled what Allison had said to Cheryl, something about her and Sam acting suspiciously on Sunday. The two divas had disappeared for quite some time. _The match! _he instantly thought and tried to remember everything he could from it. He couldn't recall one move that involved a blow to Cheryl's stomach or back, no axehandle, no punch. She didn't hit the canvas one time that would have jarred her. But then he could just be assuming too much—there's no way he could have remembered the match move for move.

Yet, something still didn't feel right. Just out of curiosity, he slipped into their office and perused the files for the bill of receipt from her doctor's visit last week; a diagnosis list was always included. All that was attached to the credit card receipt was the order for a blood work-up. She wouldn't be so stupid as to put the baby at risk and go ahead with the match with Sam. This was his wife, the woman he trusted with his _own _life.

Picking up the pamphlets he found in her suitcase, he started to rise from the leather chair when he noticed an ink-stamped address on the back. They came from her primary care physician's office—the place she visited last week for what they all thought was food poisoning or a virus she picked up on vacation. She knew last week before she even picked him up at the airport. Why else would she have randomly picked up prenatal care literature and took them with her this weekend?

Dave started to storm out of the office and into the living room but stopped himself. Coincidence, that was all. If they were going to have children, it was going to have to be soon anyhow with Cheryl's age. It wasn't as if she went to her doctor that often and what would it have hurt to have picked the papers up for later, he thought, ascending the steps to the second floor for their bathroom. But then for her to find out that she was pregnant in less than a week?

The wrestler clutched the papers in his fist and opened the medicine chest in search of her birth control pills. Of course they wouldn't be there if she was taking them and there was nothing for him to be suspicious about. Still, he popped down the stairs and back into the laundry room. Dropping the crumpled pamphlets on the counter, he rifled through Cheryl's toiletry bag. Finding the pink clamshell case, he opened it to see that she hadn't taken any of the pills since the day of her doctor's visit. She knew—his wife knew she was pregnant last week, hid it from him, and then proceeded to put herself and the baby at risk in a damn wrestling match.

Grabbing the literature to confront her, he noticed that one of them was a tri-folded sheet of white paper. Unfolding it, he read the results that should have given him the greatest thrill of his life. Instead, he was fueled by more anger than he had known in a very long time. There's a logical explanation, he kept repeating as he forced himself into a steady walk into the living room.

TBC…


	13. Sending a Message

_**Chapter XIII: Sending a Message**_

Dave Batista clutched the pamphlets on pregnancy in his tight fist like a wad of tissues. Anger was rising within him, bubbling up from the pit of his stomach into his chest. He had to keep it in check to hear her excuse for why she hid the fact that she was pregnant from him and why she went through with the championship match on Sunday.

But seeing her sitting on the couch, munching on crackers, her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, reading about how to take care of herself and their unborn child, he practically exploded. "I know," he seethed and threw the pamphlets on the cushion beside her.

Cheryl was so caught off guard that she couldn't respond with anything beyond, "What?" She picked up the papers and, in what felt like slow motion, looked down at them and then up at Dave. She had never seen him so angry. He was clenching his jaw, his eyes narrowed, and his nostrils flaring. Her mind wouldn't work fast enough to lie to him.

"Do you have nothing to say for yourself?" he demanded, glaring at her.

"I…the last match…the—the belt…" Her throat was closing up and she couldn't make her tongue work.

"You still went through with that match knowing you were pregnant just to win the belt?" His voice rose a notch. "You risked losing the baby just for a damn belt? You of all people! I can't believe you could be so selfish!"

"I know," she whispered, her eyes dropping to floor, unable to meet his angry ones. She would swear on her life that his eyes turned red when he was this pissed.

"Don't act all repentant now. What else are you doing to harm the baby?" Then recognition dawned on his face. "You still drank Sunday night. Knowing you were pregnant, you tossed back those drinks left and right. God, the tequila, the vodka…" He brought both of his hands to his head and ran them frustratingly over his hair as he turned away from her.

"Wait, right there," she bit out as he started walking out of the room but he wouldn't listen and kept going. "Dave," she shouted and padded after him. He was too quick and was already slamming the car door. She watched him back out of the driveway and peel out to who knew where.

If he wanted to be an asshole and not listen, then that was his prerogative. He was right on one thing and wrong on the other. When he was done pouting and sulking, she would set him right but she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of her groveling when he wouldn't even give her the opportunity to explain herself. Hell, no, she thought and slammed the garage door shut.

That evening, while she was in the shower, Deandra, his sister, called and left a message: Dave was at her house. "I don't know what's going on and I'm not asking. I just don't want you to worry about where he is when he doesn't come home tonight. He doesn't know I'm calling you."

"Thanks, Dee," Cheryl smugly stated as she deleted the message. If he wanted her to worry, then he shouldn't have gone to his sister's. But then she did begin to worry when he didn't show for their flight. Because their tickets were connected, the attendants were able to inform her that the flight had been changed. When Dave didn't check into their hotel room either, she was starting to get scared.

Prepared to arrive at the arena and hear the worst, she dressed and took their rental car on to the houseshow. She wasn't required to be there to perform, but considering they were changing storylines dramatically to accommodate her pregnancy, Stephanie McMahon and Brian Gerwitz wanted her there to discuss the role she would play. On her way to check-in, she noticed Dave out of the corner of her eye in the canteen. He stood up and started for the lockerroom, unaware that she had seen him. Hurrying through the room, casually waving at a few people, she caught up with him, grabbing his arm before he had time to push the door open.

"You're unbelievable," she hissed. "You think you could have checked in with me? Let me know you weren't dead?"

"You haven't bothered to call to find me," he countered.

"After the way you treated me, you think I'm the one who should have called? I don't think so."

"You put _our _baby in danger. That child is as much a part of me as it is you but you didn't consult me. That baby will be my firstborn and you didn't give a rat's ass about that because you wanted to win the belt again," he said the last mockingly. "I can't talk to you right now. When I want to hurt something as bad as I do right now, it's best I _don't _talk to you." He turned to go but then faced her. "If I catch you drinking, you won't believe how much your ass is in trouble."

"You bastard," she mumbled when the lockerroom door shut behind her husband. He was right but she didn't want to admit any of it. How selfish could she have been? It was true—nothing was worth losing the baby and she had done that participating in the pay-per-view match anyhow. But with the way he was treating her, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of saying that. Schooling her face, she set out to find her supervisor's office.

* * *

It was like the couple was back to fighting again when they were accusing each other of infidelity. They could make nice to other people's faces when they weren't even speaking to each other. While Cheryl had no idea where Dave was staying, she could assume he was alone because no one said a word to her. From the past experience, she knew how to hide this spat. She caught a ride to the next venue with Sam and John, claiming that Dave had a PR appearance that had slipped their mind and she had neglected to make other transportation arrangements. She caught rides to and from the arena and airport with different wrestlers, making similar excuses separately to each. No one suspected a thing.

But if there was one thing she learned when she and Dave separated—although in reality there were many things—it was that she couldn't keep it to herself. She didn't dare involve Sam because the blonde was already more than involved by going along with Cheryl's scheme to still participate in the match at Unforgiven. She didn't want the younger woman feeling guilty if she knew how angry Dave was at the redhead. Knowing Sam, she'd blame herself somehow. Instead, she dialed Nidia Guenard Angle.

Monday had been so crazy with delivering the news of their pregnancy and the reactions to it that Cheryl hadn't gotten around to calling Nidia. Only minutes before the show was to start, the redhead got a call from the brunette, a rather scathing call.

"Is it true?" Nidia demanded before Cheryl could even finish saying 'hello.'

"What?"

"I just read on the internet that you're pregnant," she stated angrily, popping her gum to accentuate her point. "Is—it—true?"

"Yes, it is," Cheryl answered, confused over why the former diva was so angry with her.

"And why didn't you tell me? Why did I have to read it on the wrestling sites?"

"Ooohhh," the redhead breathed. "It's already on the Net?"

"Yeah, when did you tell everybody?"

"Just a couple hours ago. Wow, news travels fast," Cheryl sighed. "I suppose Dave and I will have to confirm it on our website to squash any crazy rumors."

"So Steph didn't fire you?" Nidia asked, still popping her gum.

"No, she's actually going to let me stay with the company," the other woman explained.

"Now, tell me again why you didn't tell me?" the brunette pushed.

The diva tried to make her excuse sound reasonable because she had simply been caught up in all the happenings of the day. Nidia, still not happy but finally placated, squealed her excitement over her friend's news.

There would be no giggles and squeals this time when Cheryl called her not long before RAW was to begin. She just needed a listening ear and someone else's opinion. Nidia was probably not the best person to call as the brunette gave the wrestler an earful about not telling her before Monday morning and then demanded that Cheryl just throw Dave down on a lockerroom bench and remind him of why he married her in the first place. Leave it up to Nidia to make her laugh. But the brunette did agree that it was best to just let Dave pout and get it out of his system and then he would more than likely be willing to listen. Men had to be handled delicately to get what you wanted out of them. Still, she would have preferred if Dave had been around as support for the show on which she was going to relinquish the belt.

While this was not her last RAW, this was going to be Cheryl's last night as the women's champion. She and her friends were gathered around the monitor in hospitality to watch the show as it progressed. Her first vignette had been taped earlier in the evening and, while she didn't usually watch herself except to review her matches, she was stuck beside Sam and Cena for the clip.

Despite the fact that they shouldn't have been able to miss the camera in the dressing room, Triple H was seen stating, "You're joking."

"No," Cheryl replied, tears streaming down her face where she sat in the sofa chair. "It's true. You would have found out sooner or later."

Hunter paced the room twice, a hand to his forehead in thought. He then turned back to his sister and asked, "Who? Which wrestler?"

"I never said he was a wrestler," she relied with a sniff.

"I know you better than that. Who is it?"

"You'll kill him and I can't let that happen," Cherry answered but Helmsley was already leaning down towards her.

With his palms firmly planted on the arms of the chairs, he shouted in her face. "Who is it?"

"I won't tell you," she screamed back.

The camera then panned out to show William Regal pressed flat against the wall outside the cracked door of the dressing room. He smugly grinned and then walked off before the clip cut to the first commercial of the night.

It was after the second commercial that J.R. and Lawler stated that the GM William Regal had a major announcement to make regarding a certain member of Evolution. Before the main event, the GM made his way to the ring and produced a microphone. "You know how you get a bit of juicy gossip and can't resist passing it on? I'm going to share a secret with all of you tonight about Cheryl Leigh. Cherry, dear, why don't you come on out?"

Evolution's music hit and the woman stepped out, followed by her half brother. The two were a striking and imposing pair in their crisp suits. Triple H's eyes were shielded by sunglasses but that did nothing to hide the anger in his face. He looked like he was about to throttle Regal as he stalked down to the ring. Cheryl appeared no-nonsense in her red pinstripe suit and black peep-toe heels that showed off her red nails. Her impassive face was set on the ring rather than playing up the crowd. She had wanted to do this on her own but having Triple H there was another way to set up Evolution bucking authority, particularly that of the GM.

"Would you like to tell the fans, dear, or do I have to do it?" William Regal began.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she challenged, hefting her championship belt higher on her shoulder. "Let's hear what this secret is all about."

Regal laughed and then began turning in a slow circle as he announced the diva's pregnancy. Cheryl folded her arms across her chest and scowled at him. When Triple H lunged at the GM, she rushed to stand between the two men, her hands going to Hunter's chest and the belt falling to the mat. The redhead shook her head and the wrestler backed up.

"Because you can no longer compete, you must vacate the title," Regal said and bent over to retrieve the belt. Cheryl stomped his hand and then picked the belt up herself. "Oh, so it's not true?" he asked, feigning surprise.

"It's true," she replied in a resigned tone. "And that's all I'm going to say," she added and tossed her microphone aside to emphasize the statement.

"I don't have to tell you that if you cannot compete within thirty days for the belt, you must give it up."

"I know," she snapped loud enough for his microphone to pick it up all the while looking at his outstretched hand with disdain. The diva held the belt out in front of her, ran her hand over her name—the last time it would be printed there. Any other time she would be 'forced' to vacate the title she probably wouldn't have acted so nostalgic.

Cheryl loved her job. It was never about the belt or the money but about wrestling itself. Yet, so much was summed up in that title, the symbol for what all wrestlers want to attain. Images of her career flashed before her eyes with the glint of the spotlights on the gold. All of its ups and downs, how grand and glorious and how ridiculously frustrating. Why couldn't she have started earlier in the business? But there was another stage in her life waiting for her and she was close to being too late to start it as well.

Inwardly, she smiled at the memories, everything was worth being a WWE diva. Outwardly, she scowled, rubbing her thumb across her name before shoving the belt in Regal's hand. "Let's go," she mouthed to Hunter.

The wrestler waved her on but she had only gotten as far as the turnbuckle when she heard Regal 'oof' from the kick to his stomach and the thud that followed from the Pedigree. Cheryl turned back around with a sick smile on her face, picked up the belt from where the GM had dropped it, polished it with her sleeve, and carefully situated it under Regal's head. "One more time," she shouted above the crowd. Triple H grinned at her and then pulled the prone man up to deliver the Pedigree one more time.

One of the ring attendants produced a microphone and Helmsley glared at Regal. "Let that be a message to anybody who messes with Evolution. Not just wrestlers but _anybody_." He threw the mike down and then took Cheryl's hand to help her out of the ring. The brother and sister paused at the top of the ramp, arms raised. Hunter dropped her hand and then ruffled her curls before planting a kiss on the locks. That had been a point of contention but Creative wanted there to be no doubt that the siblings were teaming together, no hatred between them whatsoever, and that Hunter honestly cared about his sister, enough to hurt anyone severely if they harmed her in anyway. It was going to help support his concern for the woman in her condition and his anger over the 'asshole' who got her pregnant. Despite the fact that she planned to never wrestle nor be the women's champion again, Cheryl was looking forward to seeing how Creative was going to play out this storyline.

TBC…


	14. An Unfulfilled Vow

_**Chapter XIV: An Unfulfilled Vow**_

Instead of having any of her family pick her up at the airport, Cheryl chose to take a cab to the beach house. She and Dave were supposed to both be flying in so that they could deliver the news to the Leighs about the impending arrival of another addition to the family. She was prepared for her husband to not show up at all and was armed with excuses if that was case, although she hoped he would come so that they could finally talk.

For now, she wanted to be left alone and that meant not letting her family know she was back in Hilton Head. If her parents knew, they'd probably come over and stay around for a while or try to talk her into dinner. The redhead wasn't in the mood to deal with them yet. There was something she had to do, to get out of her system and then she could announce her pregnancy.

Since early that morning, she had a vision of her next project. She hadn't been painting for a while now because she had been busy as number one contender to the women's belt and then finally the women's champion. But something had popped into her head that morning and she began sketching rough outlines of a series of paintings she wanted to create. By the time she disembarked from her flight into the Savannah/Hilton Head airport, the amateur artist had six detailed sketches. But it wasn't enough to stop with the pencil drawings. She wanted to get her hands in paint.

Cheryl ordered take-out on the cab ride home and it arrived only a few minutes later than herself. After slipping into a pair of old cotton pajama bottoms and a well-worn ball jersey and opening the balcony doors of the studio, she set the sketches out on her drafting board and then began rifling through the available canvases, matching sizes with the different scenes. Between a bite of noodles, she'd pin a drawing to a canvas. Three of them would have to wait until she could cut and tack down the appropriate size. Two larger paintings would be the centerpiece and then the other smaller ones would surround them. Deciding it would feel like progress to do the smallest first, she slurped up the last of the noodles and then set the canvas on her easel. Letting out a small sigh, she began mixing colors on her palette. With the rolling ocean as background music, the woman scrutinized every careful brushstroke.

When the first one was done, Cheryl glanced at the time and couldn't believe she had completed one already. She wasn't feeling the least bit sleepy and decided on a late night snack. Knowing she was coming, her mother had filled up the refrigerator for their visit. On the countertop was a homemade cake—German chocolate. The note told her to indulge and call them when she got up the next morning. "Thank you, Mom," she stated out loud and cut a generous slice, lifting the piece to her mouth rather than using a fork for each bite. The cake was about as good as sex and she carried the plate upstairs with her as she contemplated one of the larger pieces of canvas. With the confection gone, she washed her hands and lightly sketched a rough outline of the painting. She paused to tap her fingers across her stomach and smile before mixing a new palette of colors.

* * *

Batista's flight was at an ungodly hour in the morning. By now, Cheryl would usually have completed her usual jog on the beach whenever they were on the island but, because of her knee, she could still be in bed. Still, he didn't feel right asking her to come pick him up at the airport after their fight and not talking to each other. He was still angry with her, raging angry, but they needed to talk. He couldn't ignore her for the rest of the pregnancy. Actually, he didn't _want _to ignore his wife at all.

Dave was upset at himself for flying off the handle at her. He shouldn't have run off like a little kid and pouted. But he had and it was time to move past that. When he had said that it was best they don't talk when he was that mad, he never meant that he could hit her. It was that he knew there wasn't any hope of being rational about the situation from his point of view. However, he realized the implication of the statement just last night when he couldn't stop thinking about his wife. He probably should have called her but wanted to talk her in person. He needed to see her when they finally sorted this out.

After the cab dropped him off, he quietly let himself into the house, which was eerily silent. He stopped in the kitchen and noticed the cake that was missing what amounted to two large slices. He was suddenly starving. Would it really hurt to have that much sugar for breakfast? Maybe not, he justified and cut a piece. After a large glass of milk, and a prayer of gratitude for Cheryl's mother stocking the pantry, he headed upstairs to see if his wife had left any indication as to her whereabouts. Starting in the bedroom, he noticed that her suitcase was open on the bed, which had not been slept in. Stepping back out, he could hear the ocean roaring and knew there was a door or window open somewhere. Her studio was his next guess.

She was there, curled up in a sofa chair and asleep. A mug of coffee was still in her hands and her hair was even damp. She must have just taken a shower and fallen back asleep. He carefully extracted the cup and set it on an endtable beside an open packet of saltine crackers. The room was a little chilly, so he closed the balcony doors as well. Turning back around, he then noticed the smaller painting drying on one easel and the larger on another. Then the four sketches on the drawing board caught his attention. She had been up all night painting.

He studied the one she had last done and could even see where the paint was still wet. The scene was of two adults from behind walking on the beach, one a woman with red hair and the other a man with black; it was the two of them. Between them, swinging from a hand a piece, was a little boy, probably about four or five years old, with copper hair. Holding the redhead's other hand was a little dark-headed girl, who was probably about two years old. The other completed picture was also of a redheaded woman. Cheryl never painted herself into pictures where her face was recognizable but this time she had. It was of her dressed in white and holding a newborn baby. The gender of the child wasn't obvious but the shock of copper hair stood out from the white blanket that surrounded him. Along the hem of the blanket were green Celtic knots. He almost expected the baby to open his—or her—eyes and for them to be the green of the intricate designs. He couldn't resist looking at the other four sketches. These she had spent time on as well. One was obviously him, in the same pose as Cheryl, holding a baby. The hair was sketched in dark and he wasn't sure if it was the same child or not. The blanket swaddling this baby had the same Asian design as his mother's antique vase. Another drawing was of just she and Dave from behind, their heads together as they were whispering to each other, the sunrise just peaking up over the ocean's horizon. The one tacked to a large canvas was very detailed. Cheryl was sitting on the beach, her face turned from the viewer, but she was obviously very pregnant. She was holding a beach pail in one hand while a child of maybe two or three stood before her, studying a starfish. Beside him, Dave squatted, pointing at the starfish as if explaining what it was.

The wrestler shook his head at the drawings. How could he be angry with her when she obviously cared so much about them as family? She wouldn't have painted these if she didn't want the baby or didn't want to have more children with him. She never meant harm, physical or emotional, to any of them.

"I didn't drink that night," Cheryl softly said. Dave turned to see her stretching and she pushed herself up from the plush chair. When he didn't respond, she continued. "Sam knew and she agreed with me that it wouldn't be wise to let on that I wasn't drinking alcohol for fear someone would know. That's why she was plastered that night."

Dave turned back towards the larger painting of the four of them on the beach. She hadn't been drinking? "But I saw you take that shot of tequila from Edge," he evenly stated.

"You only think you did. I pointed out Carlito to distract everyone. Sam drank both shots, bless her heart."

He thought hard back to that night and realized he couldn't place that shotglass directly on her lips. He should have listened to her rather than storming out. But that still didn't excuse her for going through with the match. He didn't know what to say in response, so he took another route. "Did you stay up all night doing these?"

"Yeah," she replied with a yawn. "I got them in my head and I just couldn't sleep. I finished the second one about an hour ago."

He started to tear up. She would probably never understand why he wanted to protect her the way he did. He reached out an arm and pulled her to him, wrapping both of his arms around her. "Do you understand why I was so mad at you?" he asked, his voice breaking.

"Yes," she answered, her own tears began to flow.

"I can't imagine anything happening to you or this baby."

"I know," she sobbed back. "It was stupid and selfish. I've been so mad at myself. But…"

"But what?"

"I…I just want to you to…understand why I did it, why I went through with the match and didn't tell you," she explained, pulling back to look up at him.

"I know exactly why you didn't tell me before the match. I wouldn't have let you go through with it," he said with a bit of a laugh.

"You're right on that," she replied with a chuckle of her own but then grew quite as she drew her lip between her teeth. "I really thought everything would be okay. Yes, all the reasons were selfish. It was everything we ever worked for…" She took his face in her hands. "…_everything_. Five time champion, relinquishing the belt rather than losing it, going out on top. It had to be the best match of my career. And it's not like I hadn't wrestled several times already without us knowing."

Dave was silent for a moment as he took Cheryl's hands in her own. Holding her breath, she waited to hear what he had to say. Finally, the wrestler nodded and asked, "Is it possible to understand but still not agree?"

"Yes," she said with a half-smile. "Because that's how I feel about it all now."

"I love you, pum'kin," he said with a sniffle, the gravity of the situation returning to the forefront of his mind as he pulled her up against his chest.

"I love you, too, and I'll never do anything so stupid again," she said, trying to keep from crying, but it was useless.

Dave tightened his hold on her, gently rocking from side to side while he attempted to hold back his own tears. They had learned so much about trust when they assumed each other was having an affair. He knew, staring at the paintings over her head, that he could trust her with their children. He wouldn't have to doubt her from here on out despite this one mistake. "I know," he whispered.

Cheryl sucked in her breath and pulled back to see his face. "You look exhausted. Did you sleep last night?"

"Just a couple of hours. I was too busy worrying about you," he replied, pushing away a damp lock on her temple.

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't say that," he countered, placing a finger on her lips.

She smiled and kissed the tip. "Want a nap? You'll need you're strength to deal with my family when they find out about our news tonight." She raised her eyebrows to wait for his response and then offered, "I'll turn down the blanket while you shower."

"Deal," the wrestler replied.

Cheryl was already snuggled beneath the patchwork quilt when Dave slid in behind her, smelling of shampoo and soap. She inhaled deeply and wiggled her way up against his chest. He sighed against her, wrapping an arm around her body and pulling her close.

The couple slept deeply into the early afternoon. It was their last moment of peace before they began to scramble around to get ready for an early supper with her parents and a visit with the Morgans, her grandparents. Both Cheryl and Dave found themselves grinning like idiots as they were trapped in a group hug. No one in her family was embarrassed by embraces. She was squashed up against Dave but let the wave of excitement and warmth wash over her.

One small thing was niggling at the back of her mind, the only flaw in an otherwise perfect evening. Dave still had a choice to make, whether or not he realized it. Was he still going to keep his current schedule, lobby for a reduced one when the baby was born, or quit altogether? It would eat at her until she knew. The woman wasn't going to leave it to him to bring up the subject.

By the time Cheryl had readied for bed, she found Dave settled on the couch watching the last two innings of the Washington Nationals-Atlanta Braves baseball game. Exhausted, the woman curled into a corner of the sofa but her husband patted his lap and she laid her head across his thighs. He absently stroked his fingers through her hair while she gazed at the game, hardly caring less about the outcome. Still, she asked, "We have any hope of going to the play-offs?"

"Not even close," he replied in annoyed tone. "We've never had a hope being in the same division as the Mets and Braves."

"Yeah," she replied, very aware of the dominance of the Braves in the 90s and the beginning of the next decade. One couldn't live in a border state of Georgia and not know about the club that was once deemed "America's team" in baseball.

With the last out of the game, Dave clicked off the television, leaving the room illuminated by the soft glow of a lamp from the hallway. He twirled one of her red locks as she turned to look up at him. Before she could start the conversation, he began, "Hunter asked me Monday night if I was gonna quit when the baby was born."

"Oh," she meekly responded.

"Don't 'oh' me, I know you've been thinking about it," he replied with a smirk. She simply shrugged and grinned back at him. "I know I promised you I would quit when we decided to have kids."

"Yeah, but we didn't exactly _decide _to do that, did we? Sorta got decided for us."

Dave chuckled in response but then quietly added, "Maybe it was decided for us for a reason." There was a long moment of silence between them before he broke it. "Really, with you winning the belt back and Evolution re-forming, we wouldn't have even discussed the possibility."

"True," she softly replied. "What did you tell Hunter?"

"That we'd talk about it. But then he _gently _reminded me that my contract isn't up for another year and a half," Dave explained with a half-smile. "It was so easy when we got married to make such lofty, grand promises."

"Dave," she began, sitting up and twisting around to face him. "Forget all that. Okay, maybe not that we got married, but you know what I mean," she added, flustered. "I'll have my mom and your mom to help me after the baby's born. It's not like you need to be here 24/7."

"I want to be here for his first words, his first step…or _hers_," he replied, rubbing a hand over his face. "Maybe it's just too quick of a decision."

"Then don't make it now. The due date's not for another seven months. First words, first steps, they're gonna take a little longer," Cheryl explained, twining her fingers in his.

"Alright," he sighed, leaning forward to kiss her on the forehead. "When personnel starts talking about negotiating a new contract, we'll give them an answer then. That work?"

"Yeah, baby," she answered with a smile and leaned into his embrace. "We settled for now?" He nodded and then she added suggestively, "I missed you this weekend. Actually, I've missed you quite a bit since I've been 'sick.'" With a grin, she made bunny rabbit ears with her fingers.

"You don't have to insinuate anything twice for me," he growled, scooping her up off the couch to carry her up the stairs.

TBC…


	15. Epilogue

**Author's Notes: **I just realized that I never explained the title of this fic. The subtitle "A Child's Song" was inspired by Elton John's song, "You'll Be Blessed." Thanks to Clare for finding the song for me.

_**Chapter XV: Epilogue: An Inadvertent Prophecy Fulfilled**_

"C'mere, baby, and show Momma what you've got," Cheryl called to her son just feet away. She would get up and go to him but it was almost impossible to heft herself up off the sand at eight and a half months pregnant. She could barely believe that she was already about to have another baby in two weeks, a girl this time. The redhead was giddy with excitement despite the thought of the chaos that had surrounded the birth of her first child.

* * *

Cheryl gripped the purse that she had laid on the bench on her other side where Dave wasn't seated. She kept telling herself to breathe evenly and this false contraction would just pass. She had been having contractions on and off all morning but they were short and not as painful as she expected labor to be. It had to be just Braxton-Hicks contractions. She hadn't told Dave about the pains because he would have already had her at the hospital and they would be completely missing Allison's and Mike's wedding. Just as soon as they announced the newly married couple, she'd tell him she was ready to leave for their return trip back to the island from Lexington, North Carolina, which was Mike and Sam's hometown.

Sam hadn't noticed anything when the blonde had seen her and Dave settling on the closest empty pew in the church, which was only a few rows back from her and John. If she looked now, she might have noticed. The contraction passed and just in time as the wedding march began. Dave had to put an arm around her back and a hand under her elbow to help her stand as Allison started down the center aisle. When they were finally able to sit down, the pew made a creaking noise as the redhead accidentally plopped back down. She tried to casually fan her flushed face with the wedding program through the priest's opening remarks and the first hymn.

She was tired of feeling and looking like a beached whale. Her body was no longer her own and she couldn't see her feet…period. Dave assured her that they were still there and her mother had treated her to a pedicure just yesterday to pamper her. She could only trust them that her newly painted blue toenails matched her satin dress. Daphne, Dave's cousin who had designed Cheryl's wedding dress, had spent most of the redhead's pregnancy coercing her into being a model for her new maternity clothing line. She was supposed to be waddling down the runway tomorrow in the ocean blue dress.

That was suddenly out of the question. She heard the priest state, "If anyone knows of any lawful impediment why this couple may not be joined in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace." But the words were distant and far away, like in a haze. There was a scream somewhere down the pew beside her and later she would remember that it was some blonde bimbo that Carlito had brought as his guest. But she didn't need the woman's disgusted scream to draw her attention to the fact that her false labor was not false.

Her husband was staring at her like she had grown horns and then she clearly said, unaware at how loud her voice was, "Dave, I, uh…I think my water just broke."

The entire church was already trying to determine the reason for the scream and now they zeroed in on Cheryl. She could have died in embarrassment but the fact that her first born was coming obliterated that concern.

"What? Now? We can't be having our baby now. He isn't due for another week and, we just scheduled a Caesarean for Wednesday," Dave protested, his eyes wide.

She wanted to retort that she did indeed know that. Afterall, she was the one whose feet were in stirrups just yesterday morning before they discussed with their doctor that it might be less traumatic for her and the baby because of his size if they went the route of having a Caesarean. "Well, he's coming now, and if we don't hurry up, our son will be born in a church," she panted, clutching her purse in pain until her knuckles turned white.

The people on their pew were finally getting the hint and began vacating it, spilling out into the aisle. Dave slid an arm around her and again lifted her up, hauling her up by the elbow. With a grunt, she was finally on her feet. "What do I do?" he asked, focused solely on her and oblivious to the full church. "You haven't got a bag ready and we're nowhere near our hospital. And what about our parents?"

Cheryl's breathing began to return to normal and instinct kicked in. "It's okay, baby. I've had my bag ready and packed in the trunk of car for weeks now just in case. The number for our obstetrician is on speeddial. We'll find the hospital, we'll call him, and he'll call the hospital. Our parents will just have to haul ass on their own," she said, waddling up the aisle with Dave at her side. "Honey, all you have to do is drive us safely to the closest hospital."

Taking a deep breath, he nodded. "Okay, pum'kin, that I can do," Dave said and planted a kiss on her cheek. Realizing everyone was staring at them, he turned to the congregation. "Uh, sorry to have disturbed the ceremony. I guess we'll, uh, call you from the hospital when we have any news." He paused and then added with a grin, "I'm gonna be a father."

"Not if you don't get your ass in gear. You won't live to see your child born if you don't get in that car _now_," Cheryl warned from the other side of the double doors on her way to the parking lot.

Dave barely heard the laughter as he hurried out, letting the doors fall shut. "I'm coming," he said, placing a hand under her elbow as she turned sideways to see the first step of the stairs. "What about the car seat? We may have your bag but we don't have a car seat."

"Mom will just have to bring it," she answered without missing a beat. For a woman in labor, she was quick in getting to the car. Dave opened the door for her but paused. "What?" she asked.

"Should we put something on the seats?" he asked.

"Sure, there's newspaper in the backseat," she sarcastically answered and then glared at him. "I'm not a cat."

"Not a smart comment, Dave," they heard from behind them. Both turned to see Shawn Michaels standing on the other side of the door. "Does your car a navigation system?" The couple shook their head. "So how did you think you were getting to the hospital? Never mind," Shawn quickly added, understanding of the panic the two were in. "I've got one. Follow me," he said, jerking his head towards his rental car.

Cheryl shook her head at Dave, wondering how they were indeed gong to find directions to the hospital. "Not our finest moment," she said, lowering herself into the seat.

By the time Dave was in the driver seat, the redhead was already on the phone calling her mother. Roslyn excitedly flitted about while they were talking, attempting to get ready before she even knew where she was going. She agreed to pick up the newborn's car seat that was currently in the beach house's foyer.

By the time Cheryl was off the phone, Dave had finally gotten through to her obstetrician. "I don't care how long it takes for you to get here, get in your car and come _now_," the wrestler bellowed. "_You_ have to perform the Caesarean…I don't care, I don't know those doctors and I won't have anybody cut—" Dave drew in a sharp breath and then let it slowly out. "I will pay you anything you want. I'm talking high numbers…What do you mean I can't buy you off…Yeah, I know it's a-whole-nother state away…This is my wife we're talking about!"

Cheryl tried to jerk the phone away from her husband but he held tight, still yelling at the doctor. Finally, she pried it from his fingers and began apologizing profusely despite the contraction that had her gritting her teeth. "Yes, please," she said sweetly when the obstetrician explained that he would call ahead to the hospital and have all of her records faxed there in minutes.

"Why'd you do that?" Dave demanded.

"Because I would still like to see him if we have another baby," she said through an exhalation of breath. She found that if she breathed out and concentrated on every word she said, she could handle the pain a little bit better.

"Another baby?"

"If it starts hurting worse than this, there won't be another one," she moaned. Breathing and concentrating weren't helping any more. "He wouldn't be so big if it wasn't for you," she snapped.

"Me? You're the one who's put on thirty pounds," he retorted as they pulled up to a redlight.

"Son of a bitch, you just didn't," she shouted, drawing her left arm across her chest and then lashing out. Dave grunted because the smack on his chest actually hurt. It was worst than a chest slap from Ric Flair. "And that's with my weak arm," she growled.

Dave's phone rang within seconds and Cheryl grabbed it, still glaring at him. He managed to pluck it from her fingers before she could answer it. "Yeah," he answered, knowing it was Shawn from the ID.

"Please don't provoke her," the other wrestler stated. "Just drive."

"Shawn," Cheryl yelled where he could hear her on the phone. "Tell him to stop being a dumbass."

"It's not like that," Dave replied to HBK. "I tried to take her mind off of labor and thought it would help if she was hitting something."

"He called me a fatass," the redhead added.

"I did _not_," Batista immediately countered.

"Okay, fine, but be careful," the other man warned, rolling his eyes at the couple. There was a reason he was coming along and that display was exactly it. He could only thank God that they were two blocks from the hospital.

That wasn't the last time Cheryl hit Dave and he was grateful that he had recently cut his hair so she couldn't get a handful. Her records had arrived shortly before she had and she only had to hang on long enough to be admitted and examined by a stand-in obstetrician before she received the epidural, just enough time to make Dave appreciate her strength as a female wrestler.

After that, it was a whirlwind delivery by Caesarean and she was suddenly holding her first born, weighing in at ten pounds and six ounces, swaddled in a blanket and sleeping peacefully in her arms. Her emotions were so high she couldn't quit crying at the miracle of this baby.

Shawn was finally let in and she hastily wiped away the tears. The blonde couldn't help but smile broadly at the new family. Dave was perched on the side of her bed, gently stroking a small hand that had found its way out of the blanket. His other arm was around the redhead who couldn't take her eyes off the baby. Shawn hoped that the couple would have found their way back to themselves even if Cheryl hadn't come to him crying after they had broken up five years ago. He would like to think, though, that he had a hand in making this happen today.

"Can I hold him?" Shawn softly asked. The redhead nodded and carefully placed the baby in his arms. "What name did you decide on?"

"Daniel Michael," she replied with a grin. "Daniel for my late grandfather and Michael for his father and for Dave's grandfather."

"That's a big name to live up to," Shawn said to the newborn, running the back of a finger down the boy's cheek. "Your daddy's a big guy and Daniel was a great man in the Bible. You don't know it yet but he spent the night with lions…"

While Shawn enumerated the great exploits of the biblical character, Cheryl began tearing up again and Dave kissed her on the forehead. "Still adamant about not having anymore?" he asked her in reference to a few vows she made before receiving the epidural.

"I don't think I meant that," she replied, cupping his cheek with her trembling hand. "I don't think I meant a lot that I said."

"You know I intentionally said some things to get you pissed off to help with the pain."

She chuckled and nodded her head. "Yes, honey. Let me get this one out of diapers before we start on another, okay?"

"I wouldn't ask for more," he said, kissing her again. "Only whenever you're ready."

Apparently she was fertile Myrtle. Assuming it would take a while, she had come off her birth control when Daniel turned two and she was pregnant within three months. Their little girl was due the week after Daniel's third birthday.

* * *

"What did you find, sweetie?" Cheryl asked as Dave squatted down beside his wife and firstborn. The former wrestler had flown home for the few days off he had from filming the small role he had landed in an upcoming movie. It was his second movie since choosing to retire less than a year after Daniel was born. With his contract set to expire shortly after his birthday, he realized that, at the age of forty-one, it was time to hang up his wrestling boots and play with his son instead.

The little boy, his copper hair spiked by the dried saltwater, carefully laid the pointed, sand-colored object in her outstretched hand. "What's it?" he asked, pointing with a tiny finger and then jerking it back to put it in his mouth.

Dave gently extracted the finger, aware that no one could know where it had been after a day on the beach. "It's a starfish," he answered when his wife didn't immediately reply. She was staring at the echinoderm as if it could break at any moment just by breathing on it.

The child sensed his mother's reverence for the object and gently lifted it from her hand to study it. After a couple of minutes, he carefully gave it back to her and then pointed at the red pail beside her. "Put it there," he said.

Cheryl laid the starfish inside the bucket along with various seashells and a sanddollar. Before she could look up, Daniel was running back to his sandcastle at the edge of the water.

"What's wrong?" Dave asked, slipping to the sand beside her.

"I…it's…" She sniffled and wiped at her eyes, only to scratch her cheeks with the dry sand on her palms. "Damn," she muttered and rubbed her hands across her shirt.

"Are you okay? The baby…"

"It's fine," she sighed. "It's…do you remember those paintings I did when I found out we were pregnant? The ones where we were so surprised that Daniel's hair was just as copper as I painted?"

"Yeah, I remember. We were so shocked when he was born with a head full of hair like that," Dave replied with a chuckle.

"I know I never hung them but do you remember the one of us on the beach?" she asked, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "The pail, the starfish, me pregnant…"

He thought about it for a moment and then recognition dawned on him, his dark eyes widening. "The starfish…you…yeah, I remember…wow," he breathed.

"You said that the decision to have kids then was made for us. It's just confirmation…like somehow I knew that one day we'd be here." Cheryl looked up towards the horizon on the sea, leaning back to rest her hands behind her on the beach.

Dave glanced the few feet over at Daniel, plopping more wet sand atop the mounds that formed his castle and fortress. He then followed his wife's eyes out to the horizon and quietly pondered a guiding hand in their life.

"Nothing's wrong at all," Cheryl said, laying a hand on her husband's. "Everything is absolutely perfect."

FINI!

**Author's Notes: **Again, for this chapter, credit must be given to _**WandaXmaximoff **_(ID: 747588). She created the idea for the scene during the wedding and wrote almost all of the dialogue in the chapel. But my gratitude for Wanda (aka Clare) doesn't stop there. I have to thank her again for reading this in a piecemeal state and then again when it was in its final form. My utmost respect and gratitude for not only being a great beta but for being a wonderful friend as well, Clare!

Well, we have come to an end. It's all said and done. I can't thank all my readers and reviewers enough. A special thanks to all those who reviewed: _**WandaXmaximoff**_, _**shannygoat**_, _**Inday**_, _**justkimmy**_, and _**AshMattXoXo**_.

As of this moment, I have several wrestling fics in the works but none that are close to being ready to post. I'm heavily into a LOTR fic right now that will be posted under my _**Daughter of Olorin**_account here on ff dot net (ID: 342090) before I finish the wrestling fics.

Again, thank you! 'Til next time!

Gin

Disco Inferno1


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